


Love of my Life

by Morgana_avalon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 238,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: Like most couples who are together for some time, Glorfindel and Erestor are facing some commitment issues, which are made worse by miscommunication and the arrival of Erestor's not so nice brother Magolion. Problems follow. Taking a break from the relationship (and not by his choice) Erestor decides to visit Lothlorien to find some peace of mind there. Elladan accompanies him. But during their stay in Lothlorien disaster strikes; Erestor and Orophin are taken prisoner by Orcs. Glorfindel realizes the huge mistake he made in letting Erestor go. But can he still turn the tide and rescue his beloved from his terrible fate? A fellowship  is formed and they are sent to rescue the poor chief advisor. In the meantime, Legolas has to complete a quest of his own.Warnings; mpreg (and no, not Erestor!) Well, probably some angst, graphic violence when they are with Sauron, but nothing really, really bad!





	1. Chapter 1

Love of My Life 

Love of my life you've hurt me  
You've broken my heart and now you leave me  
Love of my life can't you see  
Bring it back, bring it back  
Don't take it away from me  
Because you don't know  
What it means to me

Love of my Life, don't leave me

You've taken my love, you now desert me

Love of my Life, can't you see

Bring it back, bring it back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me

 

You will remember

When this is blown over

And everything's all by the way

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you, I still love you

Back, hurry back

Please bring back home to me

Because you don't know

What it means to me.

Love of my Live

Lyrics by Queen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Part 1

 

 

Erestor walked among the tall and ancient trees, which set this part of the forest apart from Elrond’s private gardens. He had come here to find some peace of mind, as he needed to sort out his thoughts. His relationship with Glorfindel could be called strained at best, and he could think of no reason for the rift between them or what he may have done to cause it.

 

Placing the palms of his hands against a friendly oak tree, he leaned in closer, until his brow also rested against the tree’s trunk. Soothing energy seeped into his hands, traveling down his arms until it finally warmed and cocooned his entire body. “Thank you for this gift,” he whispered softly, grateful for the tree’s selfless act. It could probably feel his loneliness and melancholy. His long, dark hair tumbled forward, shielding his features, and hiding the first tears that were building in his eyes. Why were Glorfindel and he drifting apart? What had he done wrong?

 

The air’s consistency changed, alerting him that someone was approaching. He released a deep sigh; he had hoped to find some peace here, but his restless mind was unable to unwind.

 

“Erestor? My friend?” Lindir approached slowly, giving Erestor a chance to grow aware of his presence. “Why are you here all by yourself?” Erestor had always hated solitude and would always prefer having company to walking the woods by himself. “Is something wrong?” He came to a standstill behind Erestor and rested one hand on the dark-haired Elf’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “I hope that you know that you can always talk to me.” He also felt the tree’s gift, the tranquil energy that now coursed through Erestor.

 

Erestor composed himself, determinedly wiping away his tears and brushing wayward strands of hair back behind his ears. After drawing in a deep breath, he turned around to face his friend. “Lindir.”

 

Erestor’s tone revealed much to Lindir, who promptly reacted by burying his friend in a tight hug. Rubbing Erestor’s back, Lindir said, “Talk to me.” Maintaining his hold on Erestor, he guided the raven-haired advisor over to a bench, where they sat down. “What is causing you such distress?” Erestor’s swimming eyes made him swallow hard. Making an educated guess he said, “Is it Glorfindel?”

 

Erestor whimpered softly. “You told me not to become his lover, but I ignored your advice.” Lindir and he had quickly become friends when they had first met in Lindon, preparing to accompany Elrond to Imladris. The minstrel and advisor had found they enjoyed each other’s company and the trust between them had deepened these last few millennia to the point where they confided unconditionally in each other. He had never achieved such trust with Glorfindel. “I should have listened to you back then.”

 

Lindir sighed deeply and used one hand to cup Erestor’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “Tell me what is wrong.”

 

“Glorfindel and I have been lovers for a thousand years now, but…” Erestor briefly closed his eyes as his heart twitched with pain. “I think ‘tis over between us. He no longer desires me in that way.”

 

“What makes you think that?” Lindir tried to listen, instead of offering instant advice. When Erestor had first come to him with the news that Glorfindel wanted him as his lover a millennia ago, he had advised against accepting that offer, but Erestor hadn’t listened. Erestor had been in love

– utterly and passionately in love – and the advisor had instantly accepted. Lindir however, had had doubts. He had been afraid that Glorfindel, a warrior who delighted in making conquests, would quickly tire of his lover and it seemed he had been right. For what was a thousand years to an immortal Elf? “What did he do this time? Or what did he fail to do?”

 

Erestor raised swimming eyes and met Lindir’s knowing stare. “He won’t touch me any more. When we go to sleep at night, he turns away from me.”

 

“Ai,” whispered Lindir, realizing how hurt Erestor really felt. “And this has been going on for how long?”

 

“A few months.” Erestor leaned back against Lindir, enjoying the close contact. “He is either away patrolling the borders or training with his guards. There are nights when he doesn’t come to bed at all and I wake up alone in the morning. His tone toward me is always civil, but clearly lacks affection and enthusiasm. He has tired of me. You were right.”

 

“I never wanted to be right,” mumbled Lindir, “I wanted the two of you to be happy.” Still rubbing Erestor’s back, he realized how heavily the advisor was leaning against him and he instinctively tightened his hold.

 

“I should have known something was amiss when he did not want to officially marry me. The one time I mentioned binding ourselves, he pretended he hadn’t heard,” said Erestor in a saddened tone. “What did I do wrong? I don’t understand. I always tried so hard to please him.”

 

“Maybe you tried too hard and lost part of yourself?” suggested Lindir carefully. “I saw you change throughout the years. You changed your ways to fit in with his.”

 

“That is how a relationship works,” said Erestor, frowning. “’Tis about giving and taking.”

 

“But maybe you gave too much and took too little?” Lindir had mentioned this to Erestor before, but back then the other Elf had denied it. “You live for him. You try to read his every wish from his eyes. And yet you seldom ask – or get – something in return. Glorfindel is a warrior. He thinks and acts in ways different from ours. When you are fighting a battle you don’t have the time to consider consequences, advantages, or opponents. A warrior acts first and thinks later. With us it is the other way around. We think too much.”

 

Erestor pondered Lindir’s words, realizing there was some truth to them. Glorfindel and he were opposites in many ways and for them to remain a couple he had changed many of his ways. “Do you think that makes me less attractive in his eyes?” After all, he was no longer the same person Glorfindel had fallen in love with.

 

“I don’t know about that,” said Lindir thoughtfully. “But you giving in so easily can have something to do with this loss of romance between the two of you.”

 

“His patrol should arrive before midnight; maybe I can talk to him then?” Erestor sought out Lindir’s eyes. “Maybe we can still work this out?”

 

“I hope so,” said Lindir honestly. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if the two Elves couldn’t work out their problems. Erestor was a kind and gentle soul and deserved someone who loved him. It would pain Lindir to see his friend alone again, for he knew that Erestor loved Glorfindel from the bottom of his heart. “Take small steps, Erestor, or you might chase him away.”

 

Erestor nodded once and then rested his head against Lindir’s shoulder. “And how about your beloved, my friend?”

 

Lindir nervously cleared his throat and blushed. After three millennia, he still managed to blush every time Erestor addressed this matter. “He is busy, as he always is. I relish the rare evenings when he calls for me to sing for him.”

 

“I still think you should probe Elrond’s feelings. Celebrian sailed for Valinor many centuries ago and you know how lonely he is. He might not let it show, but he is. The mere fact that he seeks out company – be it mine or yours – should tell you he doesn’t want to be alone.”

 

“Erestor, we discussed this before. Elrond is far beyond my reach. I am a mere minstrel and he is the Lord of Imladris.” Lindir had resigned himself to loving Elrond from a distance many millennia ago. When he had first met Elrond in Lindon, it had been love at first sight -- for him. But Elrond had chosen Celebrian as his mate and she had given him three beautiful children, whom Lindir loved as if they were his own. “I have learned to find my happiness in the evenings when we sit together and I sing for him, whilst he plays the harp. That is all I can ever hope for. And don’t you dare tell him!”

 

“I promised to keep quiet,” Erestor reminded Lindir, “And I always keep my word.” Their gazes locked and both read the longing and loneliness in the other’s eyes. “Wish we had fallen for each other. That would have made things much easier.” But there had never been any passion between them, just a deep sense of trust and belonging. They were as close as brothers.

 

“Erestor, you still have a chance to find out what is troubling Glorfindel and to work out your problems. Talk to him; make him open up.”

 

Erestor nodded, realizing he had more than Lindir would ever have; a lover… /Do I still have one? Or did I already lose him?/

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor couldn’t sleep. For hours he had tossed and turned in bed and he was now wondering if Glorfindel would join him at all. He had seen today’s patrol return hours ago and he had hurried back to their rooms to wait for Glorfindel so he could properly welcome him home. But Glorfindel had apparently remained with his men, preferring their company to his. /What am I doing wrong?/

 

Pulling the blanket up to his shoulders, he pulled his knees toward his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes – filled with immense sorrow – fastened on the full moon, whose silver rays illuminated their rooms. Well, strictly speaking these were Glorfindel’s rooms. He had moved into them when they had become a couple and he had quickly felt at home here. But now he was beginning to feel like an intruder, like he didn’t belong here. Maybe it was time to seek out his own rooms again? But he didn’t want to pack his belongings and leave; that was so final. Lindir was right; he had to find out what was causing them to drift apart and deal with it.

 

Just when he had given up hope that Glorfindel would join him, movement near the doorway caught his attention. Peeking at the door, he saw Glorfindel enter soundlessly and then close the door behind him. His heart fluttered madly with love and desire at seeing the blond and he barely managed to force himself to remain in bed and wait for Glorfindel’s next move.

 

The blond stripped and then slipped into bed, never speaking a single word.

 

Erestor’s heart missed a beat, seeing Glorfindel lying down with his back toward him. Hadn’t Glorfindel noticed that he was still awake? Or was the blond ignoring him on purpose? There was only one way to find out. Slowly, he inched closer, until their bodies finally made contact. Lying spooned behind Glorfindel, he draped one arm over the blond’s hips, gently caressing the silken skin. “I missed you.” His fingers moved through the golden tresses until they had uncovered part of the elegant nape of Glorfindel’s neck and Erestor gently pressed a kiss on the skin. “I am glad you are back.”

 

“Erestor… I am tired.” Glorfindel grumbled, displeased, and moved a bit away from Erestor, breaking their intimate contact. “We encountered Orcs today and it took us a long time to hunt them down. I would prefer to sleep now.”

 

Erestor closed his eyes at hearing the rejection. “I merely want to hold you.”

 

“Not this night. I need to sleep.”

 

Glorfindel had stopped moving away from him and Erestor realized why. The blond was already balancing on the side of the bed. Moving away further meant falling out of bed. Being rejected broke his heart and tears flowed from his unfocused eyes when he moved back to his side of the bed. Rolling onto his other side, they now lay back to back. Wrapping his arms around his waist, Erestor bowed his head and wept bitter tears.

 

“Are you crying?”

 

Erestor coughed nervously and quickly wiped away his tears. “No, not any more. You can go to sleep now. I won’t keep you awake any longer.”

 

“I do not want you to cry,” whispered Glorfindel in a fatigued tone, “But I cannot do this now. I am too tired.”

 

“I understand.” Erestor curled up in a fetal position, pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and decided he couldn’t take much more of this. Maybe it was time he moved back to his rooms and gave Glorfindel the privacy the Elda so obviously craved. Part of him hoped the blond would reach out now that Glorfindel knew he was hurting, but nothing happened. A few minutes later, the other Elf’s breathing deepened and steadied, telling him that Glorfindel had already fallen asleep. But there would be no sleep for him tonight, too bitter was his pain after having been rejected.

 

/I cannot take this any longer either. ‘Tis time we end this charade. You no longer love me. If you did, you would ask me what was wrong instead of ignoring me and going to sleep./ Erestor’s heart wept sorrowful tears, realizing this was the last night he would spend in Glorfindel’s bed. Starting tomorrow, he would make his rooms in order and move back into them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It came as no surprise when Erestor found himself alone in bed the next morning. Glorfindel could be stealthy when necessary and had probably left long before sunrise. “I thought we were going to deal with this,” whispered Erestor, saddened. But how could he deal with this when Glorfindel wasn’t here? He had been left to sort this out alone.

 

Like most mornings, he had woken up with an erection and it had been a while since Glorfindel had enjoyed finding him hard next to him. The last time they had been intimate had been months ago and Erestor’s body longed for the intimacy they had once shared. The blond’s scent was in the sheets and blankets, and it didn’t matter how much he tossed and turned, Glorfindel’s scent still invaded his nostrils, making him hard. Irregardless of how indifferent the Elda treated him, he still longed to feel Glorfindel’s hands on him. Like so many mornings in the recent past, he curled his fingers around his hard flesh and stroked his shaft. His body demanded release and if he didn’t give in now, it would continue to haunt him during the day.

 

Stroking slowly, he closed his eyes, imaging Glorfindel was still with him and that it was the blond’s hand bringing him to orgasm. Recalling all the gentle and soft touches the Elda used to bestow on his hard flesh, he quickly reached his climax, but when the cream dripped from the head, the ugly truth crashed in, tearing down the temporary fantasy he had built.

 

He was alone. Glorfindel had left without a word, or even a note. What did that tell him? “The time has come to get over you.” But the truth was that he wasn’t ready yet to move on. He wanted to be with Glorfindel, hold him, cherish him, and make love to him. Even after a thousand years his heart still burst with love for the Balrog Slayer. “Lindir, how am I supposed to work this out when he clearly wants no part of it?”

 

Erestor sighed, wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked slowly, letting the tears spill from his eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor ignored the fact that the servant had given him the oddest look when he had told him to clean his rooms so he could permanently move back into them. He was in a particularly black and brooding mood today, something which had been occurring more frequently since their relationship had begun to deteriorate. He tried his best to hide it, but it always showed.

 

Upon finally joining Elrond in his study to assist the half-Elf with today’s work, his cheerful mask was back in place, at least he thought so, but one of Elrond’s looks told him that the Peredhel already knew something was troubling him.

 

Elrond studied his chief advisor, easily looking behind the front Erestor so eagerly presented. He knew his friends were struggling with their relationship and until now, he had stayed out of it. But Erestor looked dreadful, and when Glorfindel had left this morning to train with the guards, the blond hadn’t looked any better either. Someone had to act upon this and it looked like it was up to him to take this first step. “Please sit down, Erestor. I have some freshly brewed tea here. Would you like a cup?” Had Erestor even eaten breakfast? Seeing Erestor nod, Elrond poured them both a cup and then handed one to his friend.

 

Erestor seated himself opposite Elrond and tried hard to avoid the half-Elf’s probing looks, but to no avail. Elrond knew him too well to be fooled by his exterior. “Thank you,” he said, accepting the herbal tea. Holding the cup between his hands, he relished the warmth the liquid radiated. He stared into the tea and even caught a reflection of his brooding eyes in the swirling water.

 

“Erestor, you look like you need to talk,” began Elrond carefully, “Maybe I can provide a listening ear?” He wanted to help them. Erestor and Glorfindel were his best friends and when the two Elves had become a couple he had rejoiced for them.

 

“Is it that obvious?” Erestor put the cup down with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do any more.” He tentatively sought out Elrond’s gray eyes.

 

“Why don’t you tell me what it is that worries you? I can only help when I know what we are dealing with.” Elrond didn’t want to pressure Erestor, but he also knew his advisor often needed to be nudged in the right direction where talking about his feelings was concerned.

 

Erestor shrugged his shoulders in surrender. “I am moving back to my old rooms today.” He caught the shock on Elrond’s face and quickly averted his eyes. “Things are not working out between Glorfindel and I.”

 

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Elrond honestly. “I don’t mean to pry, but… What happened? The two of you seemed happy.”

 

Erestor shrugged again, and this time he stared at the floor, unable to meet Elrond’s probing glance any longer. “He has lost interest in me.”

 

Surprised, Elrond raised an eyebrow. “What?” He vividly remembered finding them making love in his wine cellar a few months ago. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Neither do I. He no longer wants to touch me.” Wringing his hands, he finally reestablished eye contact with the half-Elf. “Last night I waited hours for him, but when he finally did join me, he told me he needed to sleep. I merely wanted a kiss and to hold him. He nearly fell out of bed, trying to move away from me.”

 

Elrond’s eyes widened. Erestor was intelligent and cunning and his looks perfectly matched his character. The Noldorin Elf was extremely handsome and some Elves even called the dark-haired advisor a sensual beauty, which he was – even in Elrond’s opinion. Elrond seriously couldn’t imagine Glorfindel turning him down. Leaning back in his chair, Elrond closely studied the other Elf. Erestor’s eyes were as dark as the night, but radiated warmth and affection. The long, dark hair was seldom braided as its owner preferred it loose and Elrond had to admit the slightly wild look did suit the advisor best. His features were delicately formed, yet a firm jaw line gave Erestor a slightly exotic look, and the full, red lips just demanded to be kissed. The fact that the advisor preferred to wear black robes only served to enhance the handsome features. /How can Glorfindel possibly reject him?/

 

He knew for certain that several Elves belonging to his household had been in love with Erestor at one point. But Erestor had lost his heart to Glorfindel the moment the blond had joined their household and there had never been another for the advisor. Erestor only loved Glorfindel -- loved him from the bottom of his heart. Glorfindel knew how much Erestor loved him – didn’t he? The blond’s behavior surprised Elrond. “Did you already discuss this with him?”

 

“I have tried, but it is hard to talk to someone who isn’t there or doing his best to push you away. I am not sure talking will work at this stage.” Erestor sighed, distressed. “Maybe it would be best for us to go separate paths.”

 

“But you still love him.”

 

“I will always love him,” said Erestor passionately, staring into Elrond’s eyes. “He is the other half of my soul. He is the only one who ever made me feel complete.”

 

“And you are going to give up on him this easily?” asked Elrond, bewildered.

 

“I am not the one who gave up on us,” pointed out Erestor. “I have tried to talk to him, to reestablish some intimate contact between the two of us, but he continues to turn me away. There is only so much rejection I can take and this has been going on for months now.” Tears were building in his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry in front of Elrond and he forced them back, determined to hold on to his dignity.

 

Sighing, Elrond considered his options, as it was obvious his friends were unable to work this out themselves. “Would you like for me to talk to Glorfindel and find out where he stands in this matter?”

 

“I don’t want to involve you in our problems,” whispered Erestor, a tad surprised that Elrond was making this offer.

 

“The two of you are very dear to me and I would like to try,” said Elrond, though he was severely worried, hearing that the two of them had stopped talking. Once communication between lovers stopped it usually indicated far more serious problems. “Maybe at the bottom of it is some stupid misunderstanding the two of you never solved?”

 

Erestor shook his head. “I don’t think 'tis that easy. But you are welcome to try.” Maybe Elrond would succeed where he had failed, but he somehow doubted it.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Love of my Life

Part 2

 

 

Erestor placed the last items in their old places. He had collected his personal belongings from Glorfindel’s rooms after lunch, and when he had closed the door behind him, it had felt like saying goodbye to their relationship. Part of him was deadly worried that the blond would welcome the fact that he had moved out and would do little or nothing to get him back. If that really was the case, it would prove to him that he had made the right decision to move out. He couldn’t be with someone who didn’t want him. /Please let him come for me. Oh, by the Grace of the Valar, let him realize he still wants me and thus confirm our love./

 

A knock on the door caught his attention and he quickly walked over to the doorway, wondering who it was. Opening the door, he froze, staring into an awfully familiar, yet unwanted face. “Magolion, what are you doing here?” Displeased, he found that his voice shook with emotion, easily giving away the emotional turmoil he was suddenly in, being confronted by someone he had thought belonged to his past and would never haunt the present again. He should have known better!

 

Magolion shoved the door open and confidently strode into the room. “Ai, what a warm way to greet your long lost brother!” Grinning like a predatory cat, he registered the shock and dismay on Erestor’s face. “Dear brother, I decided to pay you a visit to see how you fare. It has been too long since we talked last.” After looking about, he sat down and made himself comfortable. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing the shock on his younger brother’s face. “Come on, Erestor, welcome me to Imladris!”

 

Erestor stared at his older brother in obvious shock. Magolion still looked the same as he had when they had parted millennia ago. The long, raven hair easily reached the Elf’s narrow hips and the dark green eyes simmered with evil intentions. Even here, Magolion was armed, carrying his sword and long hunting knives. “I want you out!” Erestor didn’t care that the servant who was passing by in the corridor could hear him. “I don’t want you here and you are most certainly not welcome!” He hissed the words in anger, raised an arm and pointed at the doorway. “Out, now!” He could barely tolerate his sibling’s presence, which filled him with old anger and never dealt with pain. Magolion had hurt him too many times and too deeply for him to welcome him back into his life now. He just wanted the menace gone.

 

Magolion teasingly slowly made his way to the doorway after rising from the chair, grinning, now that he had managed to get under Erestor’s skin once more. There was no brotherly love between them, just hate. “As you wish, brother mine, but you had better accept that I am here to stay. My quarters are located in the guest wing in case you start to miss my charming presence and want to visit with me.” Leaning in closer, he pressed a poisonous kiss on his younger brother’s brow.

 

His brow burned at the unwanted contact and Erestor jerked away from his older brother in horror. “Don’t you dare touch me!” He wiped his brow furiously with the fabric of his sleeve and stared at him as if he was dealing with Sauron himself. “Get out!”

 

Laughing softly, Magolion obliged his shaken brother and stepped into the corridor. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled and said, “Ah, dear brother, I will make your life miserable from now on.”

 

Eyes narrowed, Erestor slammed the door shut in his brother’s face. Swaying on his feet, he managed to cross the distance to his bed and he collapsed onto it, shaking like a leaf. Why now? Why did his nemesis have to seek him out now? /Glorfindel!/ Oh, by the Valar, once his brother found out he loved the Balrog Slayer, Magolion would go after Glorfindel in order to seduce him. “I will lose my beloved anyway. /Oh, Glorfindel, why? I do love you!/ Staring at the floor, he wondered how he could ensure his brother’s quick departure. He couldn’t allow Magolion to remain in Imladris, where his brother would doubtlessly do much damage. /I have to protect the ones I love, but how?/ He had never managed to outsmart his brother before.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Glorfindel? Can we talk?” Elrond entered his Captain’s office, already trying to get a first impression of the mood the blond was in.

 

“Elrond?” Glorfindel frowned, wondering what his friend was doing here. They weren’t scheduled to meet for another hour, when the latest reports on Orc activity were due. “What brings you here, my friend?” He leaned back in his chair and studied the half-Elf in turn, finding the gray eyes worried, confirming his suspicion that Elrond was here for a reason.

 

“I noticed how depressed Erestor looked this morning and wondered if you know what is burdening him.” Elrond saw the expression in Glorfindel’s eyes shift from open to guarded.

 

“Erestor? I have barely spoken to him these last few days. I honestly do not know what is on his mind,” said Glorfindel honestly, but the subject was making him slightly nervous. “He looked depressed, you say?” He hated to admit it, but it had been a while since he had paid Erestor any attention.

 

Elrond was worried at the lack of real response on Glorfindel’s part and decided on a more direct approach. “He mentioned moving back to his old rooms.”

 

“He did?” Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, briefly showing panic, but then he shrugged his shoulders. “Well, if he feels he has to do that then I won’t stop him.”

 

Elrond shook his head in disbelief. “Glorfindel! Your lover is going to move out of your rooms and that is all you can say? Erestor is only one step away from moving out of your life as well! I thought you loved him!”

 

Glorfindel briefly closed his eyes and then released a deep sigh. “I thought I loved him too, but I am not sure any more.”

 

Elrond rose from his chair, placed his hands palm down on the desk, and glared at him. “Glorfindel! Start making sense!”

 

“Elrond, calm down.” Soothingly, Glorfindel raised his hands, hoping to placate the frustrated half-Elf. “We will talk, if that is what you want.”

 

Elrond gathered his robes close and sat down again, glaring at the blond from beneath an arched eyebrow. “Tell me your side of the story, but you had better have one hell of an excuse to treat Erestor as you have.”

 

For the first time during this conversation, Glorfindel had the grace to look ashamed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but… my feelings for him… they are gone.” He was relieved when Elrond merely nodded instead of losing his temper again. “I don’t know what to talk about when we are together and although I once craved his touch, he now annoys me when he wants to be intimate with me.” Another resigned shrug followed. “He is still beautiful, Elrond, but… Something is missing.”

 

Elrond nodded; this sounded very familiar to him. “During my marriage with Celebrian we had moments like these, but in our case our children pulled us through.”

 

Glorfindel finally met Elrond’s gaze head on. “Erestor and I have nothing in common. He loves to read and study. Or to walk in the gardens and to watch the stars all night long. I am a warrior, Elrond, to me these things are hardly worthy of my time.”

 

“And it took you one thousand years to realize this?” Elrond frowned.

 

“I was in love…” offered Glorfindel in explanation, “But lately I only see the differences between us.”

 

“Do you no longer love him then?” Elrond studied Glorfindel carefully. It was possible that the blond had fallen out of love, but somehow he didn’t really believe that. Glorfindel shrugged again and the movement began to irritate him.

 

“I still have some feelings for him, but they aren’t strong or deep enough for us to remain lovers.”

 

“Lovers,” said Elrond thoughtfully, “I always wondered why you never proposed to him. It isn’t natural for us to live without some form of true commitment. Marriage would have created a much stronger bond between the two of you. Did you never consider binding yourselves?”

 

Glorfindel decided to be completely honest with Elrond. “Erestor mentioned it when we were together for two hundred years, but I wasn’t ready to take that step. He never brought it up again.”

 

Elrond was slowly beginning to understand the rejections Erestor had suffered throughout the centuries. “And how did he react to that?”

 

“He never mentioned it again. I already told you that.” Puzzled, Glorfindel looked at the half-Elf, not really understanding why Elrond was repeating his questions.

 

“No, how did he react to the rejection? How did he feel? Did you explain to him why you felt you weren’t ready to commit to him?” Why had he never noticed the lack of ability to address his feelings on Glorfindel’s part? “You never discussed any of this?”

 

Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “In case you hadn’t noticed yet, Elrond, I am not much of a talker.” Yes, he could fool around, play the clown and entertain them, but he had never learned how to really open up to anyone. He knew he had caused the majority of the problems they were having, practically chasing Erestor away, but he didn’t know how to change his ways. “I know I am to blame for our problems, but…”

 

Elrond growled softly when the blond shrugged again. “I cannot believe you are letting him go that easily! You should fight for him!”

 

“You just told me that Erestor is moving back to his old rooms. That tells me he has already made his decision. Why talk then?”

 

Elrond’s frustration mounted and he stared at Glorfindel in disbelief. “He is moving out because you are neglecting his needs!”

 

“How can I know what his needs are when he doesn’t tell me about them? I cannot read his mind,” said Glorfindel slightly defensively.

 

Elrond realized that his friends’ problems were much more serious than he had originally thought and he needed to evaluate everything he had learned before deciding on his next step. He had hoped that his visit would solve many of their problems, but this matter would take careful consideration and planning. Rising from his chair, he searched Glorfindel’s eyes. “If you aren’t willing to make this work you *will* lose him. Is that what you want?”

 

Glorfindel looked into Elrond’s gray eyes and said calmly, “Erestor already made his decision. What is there left to fight for?”

 

Annoyed, Elrond slammed his fist onto the desk, making Glorfindel jump back in his chair. “How can you say that? Erestor loves you!”

 

“But the question is; do I still love Erestor?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir quickly learned that Erestor had moved out of Glorfindel’s rooms and hurried to his friend’s quarters in case the advisor needed his support. When he knocked on the door he was panting slightly because he had run here and when the soft ‘enter’ finally came, he practically tumbled inside. “Erestor!” Seeing the dark-haired Elf standing near the window and looking out over the courtyard with barely concealed tears in his eyes made Lindir rush forward and bury his friend in a hug. “I learned you had moved back in here.”

 

Erestor briefly rested his head on his friend’s shoulder, enjoying the close contact, but in the back of his head he wished it was Glorfindel who had hurried here to comfort him. Why was Glorfindel still ignoring him? Did he mean that little to the blond? For how long had he been fooling himself? “I tried to talk to him,” said Erestor eventually, raising his eyes to meet Lindir’s. “But he said he was too tired and went to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, he was already gone. I think it is very clear that he is no longer interested in having a relationship with me.”

 

Rubbing his friend’s back soothingly, Lindir felt lost for words. “You cannot be certain about that until you really talk to him.”

 

“And when do I do that? Maybe he will notice me when I join him on a patrol and am captured by Orcs?” Erestor was at a loss; he simply didn’t know what to do. “Just hold me?”

 

Lindir nodded, tucked Erestor’s head beneath his chin and held him tight, rocking his friend ever so slightly. “The two of you need to talk.”

 

“Uhm, Lindir? Can I have a moment alone with Erestor?” Glorfindel stood in the doorway, watching them. When Lindir had hurried inside, the white-haired Elf had forgotten to close the door behind him, and he had found them locked in a tight embrace, which had caused a stinging ache in his heart. He knew that Erestor had always been loyal and faithful, and that the advisor and minstrel were merely friends, so he didn’t feel threatened in the least, knowing there was no physical attraction between them. In a way that saddened him, for Erestor did deserve a lover in his life, and Lindir would have been perfect for the advisor. They were both hopelessly romantic souls.

 

Lindir glared at Glorfindel for interrupting their conversation, but he also knew Erestor and the Elda had to talk. Giving Erestor a last reassuring look, he said, “I will be back later.” When he turned, he continued to glower at Glorfindel, whom he held solely responsible for his friend’s misery. This time he closed the door behind him.

 

Erestor -- suddenly facing Glorfindel -- quickly wiped away his tears and tried to compose himself. He did feel a bit more confident now that he was back in his own rooms, knowing he could tell Glorfindel to leave in case an argument broke out. “What do you want, Glorfindel?” He buried his hands in his sleeves, wishing Glorfindel would say something – do something – but the blond was merely staring at him with a sad look in his eyes.

 

“Elrond told me we needed to talk.” Seeing Erestor’s reaction to those words, he knew he had said the wrong thing. Erestor’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears again.

 

“You are only here because Elrond told you so?” So much for Glorfindel hurrying over here out of his own accord!

 

“Yes, I am.” Glorfindel nervously shuffled his feet, looking about and realizing Erestor had already moved his belongings back. “It seems to me you already made your decision so I don’t really know what we are supposed to talk about.”

 

Erestor’s heart began to break, hearing those words. “You don’t know why we need to talk?”

 

“Erestor, you moved out! That makes it pretty clear on where you stand in this and I am not going to force you to come back to me when you clearly want to be here!” Glorfindel shook his head in frustration. “I know I haven’t been an attentive lover and I don’t blame you for leaving me. I would probably have done the same thing if our roles had been reversed. I think it is a good thing that you are looking out for yourself and if you feel the need to be here – by yourself – I accept that.”

 

“You *accept* that,” said Erestor in a listless tone, his hopes being crushed at hearing Glorfindel’s damning words.

 

Acting instinctively, Glorfindel took a step forward and placed his right hand on his former lover’s shoulder. He waited until their gazes had met and then said, “I know what you want me to say. You want to hear that I love you, but I cannot say those words, not anymore. The truth is that I don’t know if I still love you in that way. I still have some feelings for you, but… it wouldn’t be fair to keep you in the dark whilst I try to figure out what I want, what I need. I would rather set you free, lirimaer.”

 

“Don’t call me that… Not any more!” Erestor defiantly stared at Glorfindel. He was searching for the right words to convey what he was feeling, but it was hard. The love of his life was standing in front of him, saying things he really didn’t want to hear. “But I still love you… and I want to be with you. Tell me what I can do to help you make up your mind. I will do whatever is necessary.”

 

But Glorfindel shook his head. “I cannot let you do that. Erestor, you have to put yourself first and by moving back in here you are making it very clear to me that you need your personal space back. I think I need mine back as well. Maybe it would be best if we didn’t see each other for some time.”

 

Erestor desperately searched for the right words to express his terror and only a human expression came to mind. “You are dumping me?” His eyes widened with horrified realization. “But I only moved out because…” Glorfindel silenced him by placing a finger across his lips and lost, he stared into the other’s azure eyes.

 

“You moved out because you felt you had to and I don’t blame you for doing so.” Glorfindel gave Erestor a thoughtful look. “But never forget that it was you who moved out, Erestor. I didn’t end this relationship. You did.”

 

Erestor shook off Glorfindel’s hand and took a step a way from the blond. “I wanted to talk! I wanted to sort out our problems. ‘Tis you who chooses the easy way out!” His dark hair danced wildly against his back when he walked toward the door, opening it. “If you no longer want to be with me, say so!”

 

“I don’t have to, lirimaer. You already did that for me.” Feeling strangely defeated – though he had achieved what he had set out to do – he left, and practically ran into Lindir, who had been waiting in the corridor. Glorfindel averted his eyes, seeing the fury in Lindir’s. What did they want from him? He had ended their relationship because that was what Erestor wanted. Why else would his former lover move out? “Be there for him… Please.” After mumbling those words and seeing Lindir’s surprised expression, he quickly left the corridor.

 

Lindir stared after the blond in shock. He had been ready to tell Glorfindel what a fool he was to let Erestor slip away, but the Elda’s soft plea had kept the words from leaving his lips. That moment he had realized that Glorfindel still had feelings for Erestor, but for some reason the Elda refused to admit to having them. Glorfindel needed time. Hearing Erestor sob softly, Lindir quickly hurried back to his friend, reestablishing his former hold on the raven-haired Elf. “I am sorry, but I heard every word you exchanged!”

 

Erestor raised swimming eyes and returned Lindir’s embrace with fierce desperation. “Why? Why can't he tell me he loves me? That he wants me in his life? That he wants me to be his lover? I never moved out because I wanted to end our relationship!” Glorfindel utterly confused him.

 

Lindir steered the distraught Elf to the bed where they sat down. Rocking Erestor, he whispered, “Glorfindel already made up his mind as to why you did this.”

 

“I didn’t even get a chance to explain!” Erestor sobbed in Lindir’s arms, wishing it was Glorfindel who was holding him. “I wanted to get his attention! I wanted him to realize that something was wrong!”

 

Lindir sighed deeply, at a loss for words. Instead he continued to rock his friend. “I will stay as long as you need me.”

 

“Thank you, Lindir,” mumbled Erestor, upset. “I need someone close, but I just wish it were Glorfindel who was comforting me and not you! Ai, I am sorry I said that… Lindir, I…”

 

“Hush now and stop talking. Let me hold you whilst you cry and once you calm down we will sort out this mess. But for now you need to let go and admit your pain.” The sobs grew harder and Lindir held on tight, hoping he would be able to support Erestor throughout this emotional storm.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel slowly entered Elrond’s study and cleared his throat to announce his presence. He felt guilty for the way he had treated Erestor, but he really thought this was for the best. Erestor obviously wanted their relationship to end and he had decided to break it off before the advisor could. In the end, no one stayed with him. His family had died when Gondolin fell and he had also lost his lover in that attack. They all left him. Ultimately, in the end, he was always alone. So why postpone the inevitable? At least this way Erestor still had a chance to find happiness with someone else. “Am I interrupting?”

 

“No, you aren’t,” said Elrond, surprised to see Glorfindel at such a late hour. He had been about to retire for the night when the blond had entered. Watching Glorfindel closely, he saw distress and loneliness in the expressive sapphire eyes. “I gather you talked to Erestor?” He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong – very wrong!

 

“Yes, we talked. I set him free, Elrond. There is no use in hanging on to something we once had.” Glorfindel, who had seated himself near the fire, was startled when Elrond suddenly rose from behind his desk and stalked toward him. “What?”

 

“What did you do?” Elrond glared at his friend, wondering if Glorfindel was still sane.

“I set him free. I told him it was best we went separate ways. That is what he wants, isn’t it? That is why he moved out in the first place.”

 

“You stupid oaf!” Elrond had had it with Glorfindel. “I told you to talk to him! Not simply assume you know what he wants!” Elrond shook his head in frustration. “You need to talk to him! Ask him what he feels, and what he wants!”

 

“He wanted out, Elrond.” Glorfindel averted his eyes, and stared at the fire instead. Nervously, he began fumbling with the fabric of his sleeve. “And it is for the best. For him and for me. I don’t know what I want and Erestor shouldn't have to pay the price for my indecision.”

 

“He already has,” said Elrond, sighing. He sat down on the chair to Glorfindel’s right, still shaking his head in dismay. “Glorfindel, what do I do with you?”

 

“I always knew he would leave me, you know? Everyone leaves me in the end.” Glorfindel didn’t know why he had said that, as he hadn’t wanted to disclose that information to his friend. Surprised that Elrond remained quiet, he added, “I lost everyone I loved when Gondolin fell. I also lost myself. When I was returned to Arda… I was surrounded by strangers and I felt utterly alone. Then I found a home and a family here, with you.”

 

Elrond listened carefully, trying to understand.

 

“And then Erestor professed he loved me. Allowing him to love me frightened me immensely, but I still took that step. But in the back of my head there was this voice telling me it wouldn’t last. That he would leave me, like all the others had.” Glorfindel plucked at his sleeve. “I was happy for a while, during the first few centuries, but then the realization set in that it wouldn’t last.”

 

“And in order to prove to yourself that you were right you drove him away. Ai, Glorfindel, why did you not come to me instead? We could have talked about this.” Elrond’s heart softened, finally understanding why Glorfindel was acting this oddly. “But it may not be too late. Go to Erestor and tell him what you just told me and he might take you back. He loves you.” But to Elrond’s dismay, Glorfindel shook his head. “What? You aren’t going to talk to him?”

 

“No, I am not. I do think this is for the best.” Glorfindel nodded once. “I don’t want to give him the chance to leave me. I would rather leave him.”

 

Elrond was losing his patience. “Glorfindel, you cannot be serious!”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes misted over with tears. “I do love him, Elrond. Deep down I love him, but I cannot be with him. He left me. He moved out of my rooms and left me. I cannot make myself that vulnerable ever again.”

 

Elrond simply couldn’t understand his friend’s reasoning. “Then what do you want? To remain alone for the rest of your life?”

 

“If need be, but I can lose myself in temporary flings, as long as I don’t love these Elves.”

 

“You are setting yourself up for a life of loneliness,” whispered Elrond saddened. “Please reconsider.”

 

Glorfindel slowly rose from his chair, his shoulders slumping, as if he was carrying the weight of Arda on them. “You can find me in my rooms, if you need me.”

 

“Your empty rooms,” pointed Elrond out to the blond, still hoping Glorfindel would reconsider and go to Erestor’s rooms instead.

 

“I know that!” growled Glorfindel in frustration. “But it is for the best.”

 

Elrond watched him leave the study. Glorfindel’s head had slumped forward in defeat. “Just keep telling yourself that, Glorfindel, but time will teach you how wrong you are.” After rising from his chair, Elrond decided a visit with Erestor was in order. He reckoned his friend needed all the support he could get.

 

Beta read by Sulien, thanks!

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Love of my Life

Part 3 

 

 

“Lindir? Thank you for staying.” Erestor sighed deeply, relishing his friend’s presence. He had taken a bath and had then slipped into a nightshirt. Lindir had tucked him in like he was a mere baby and he felt thankful for his friend’s care. Lindir was sitting on the bed, his back resting against the headboard and long, agile fingers played with strands of his raven hair. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He rested his head on Lindir’s lap, and closed his eyes, surrendering to the sweet sensation of fingers combing through his hair.

 

“You are most welcome, my dear friend,” said Lindir softly. Anguish was written all over Erestor’s features and he suffered along with his friend. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

 

“What do you think that Glorfindel is doing?” Erestor’s pleading eyes met Lindir’s. “He is all I can think of.”

 

Lindir moistened his lips and carefully considered his answer. “Erestor?”

 

“Yes?” Erestor closed his eyes again and rubbed his cheek against the fabric of Lindir’s robes. This was what he needed; attention, a listening ear, understanding and close physical contact. Things, which he had been denied for months.

 

“What are you feeling right now?”

 

Erestor frowned, but his eyes didn’t open. “What am *I* feeling?”

 

“Yes, you. Don’t focus on Glorfindel. Focus on yourself.”

 

Erestor considered the question. “I don’t know what I am feeling. Right now I feel… safe, but that is because you are here. There is a gaping hole in my heart, but… I don’t want to talk about this.”

 

Lindir understood and backed down; content now that Erestor had tried to label his feelings. “Don’t seek him out tomorrow, Erestor. Try to stay away from him. You need some distance.”

 

Erestor swallowed hard, as tears began to form in his eyes again. “I don’t know how to live without him.”

 

“Then you have to remember what your life was like before the two of you became lovers. I recall you were more independent back then, stronger.” Lindir had wanted to continue, but a firm knock on the door stopped him short. He prayed to the Valar that it wasn’t Glorfindel.

 

“Erestor? May I enter?”

 

Lindir’s heartbeat involuntarily quickened, hearing Elrond’s voice. Most of the time he managed to hide his love for the half-Elf, but he was always afraid he would slip one day. Feeling Erestor nod against him, he called out, “My Lord, please enter.”

 

Elrond, who had recognized Lindir’s voice, stepped inside, a bit surprised to find the minstrel here. But when he saw them together, he smiled. Erestor was cocooned in a soft blanket, his head resting in Lindir’s lap, whilst the white-haired Elf was soothingly stroking the dark mane. It seemed Erestor had already found someone to sit with him and comfort him. “Lindir, Erestor,” he said, acknowledging them. Seeing Erestor’s red-rimmed eyes, he realized the advisor had cried for quite some time.

 

Sensing Lindir’s nervousness, Erestor took charge. “Please seat yourself, Elrond.” He still hoped that Lindir would one day find the courage to tell the half-Elf he loved him, and in the meantime he would do his best to help them build a friendship. “I know why you are here.”

 

“I came here to comfort you,” said Elrond, seating himself on the side of the bed, and exchanging a pleased look with Lindir. “But it seems you already have a good friend at your side.” He had seen their friendship deepen over the millennia and had often felt envious of Erestor, for Lindir was beautiful and had enchanted his heart a long time ago. After Celebrían had left, his thoughts had regularly turned to Lindir, but he reckoned he didn’t stand a chance with the handsome, younger Elf, who had never shown any indication that he was interested in males.

 

“Yes, Lindir is a very good friend… the best.” Erestor managed a weak smile. “Did Glorfindel come running to you?”

 

Elrond sighed, distressed. “Glorfindel is severely… confused, let us call it that. I don’t know how else to phrase it. He did mention some things that greatly disturbed me and I will try to work with him on those matters. But for now I would advise you to concentrate on yourself. Let Glorfindel deal with his issues first.”

 

“So this is how it ends,” whispered Erestor, saddened. He found comfort in the fact that Lindir was close and that Elrond was here to offer him emotional support. “What do I do now?”

 

“You need to concentrate on your own needs, Erestor,” said Elrond in a kind tone. “You cannot help Glorfindel with this. This is something he has to sort out himself.”

 

Erestor wrapped his fingers around Lindir’s knee, making sure his friend couldn’t leave. “I will try to do that, but…” Magolion came to mind and he knew he had to warn them – Lindir in particular. Looking up at Lindir, he said, “My brother arrived in Imladris today. Magolion is here.”

 

Lindir turned deathly pale. “Magolion is here?” By the Grace of the Valar, this was bad news!

 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” said Elrond thoughtfully.

 

Erestor met Elrond’s curious gaze. “I don’t look upon him as my brother and you would do well to make sure one of the guards keeps an eye on him at all times.”

 

“You don’t trust him?” And why was Lindir trembling all of a sudden? Worried, Elrond studied the minstrel. Lindir’s lips had become a thin line and all blood seemed to have left his face, leaving him a deadly shade of white.

 

“I don’t trust him.” Erestor pushed himself upright, leaning heavily against Lindir, wondering what kind of picture they presented to Elrond. Maybe he shouldn’t display his affection for Lindir that openly. Elrond might get the wrong idea. But suddenly Lindir’s arm enfolded him and he rested his head on his friend’s shoulder. “*WE don’t trust Magolion for a good reason.”

 

Now Elrond’s curiosity was truly piqued. “WE?”

 

Erestor didn’t want to address this now, but Elrond should know the truth about his brother. “Magolion and I are very different. There never was any brotherly affection between us. Whatever I had, he wanted. At first I didn’t understand why he stole potential mates away from me, but later I realized that he just wanted to hurt me.”

 

Lindir, feeling he should tell the next part, took over. “Erestor and I first met in Lindon when we were preparing to travel to Imladris with you. Magolion was there as well. When he saw Erestor and me together, he assumed we were lovers. We never were. Erestor and I are friends, maybe as close as brothers, but there never was any passion between us. But Magolion didn’t understand that and he decided to steal me away from Erestor. When I first met Magolion he was charming and attentive. At the time, I didn’t know he was Erestor’s brother and I agreed to let him court me.” Lindir’s voice suddenly hitched, making it impossible for him to continue. His eyes grew foggy with tears and memories.

 

“Magolion seduced Lindir,” said Erestor eventually when Lindir was unable to continue. His hand sought out Lindir’s, squeezing reassuringly. “He bedded him and the next time Lindir and I met, he appeared, gloating, telling me he had seduced my lover.”

 

“I was devastated,” continued Lindir in a shaky tone. “I thought he loved me. He promised me an official bond, which was the main reason I let him make love to me.” Averting his eyes, he admitted, “I felt used.”

 

Severely shocked by what he had just learned, Elrond stared at them. “And Magolion is now in Imladris?” He felt a deep sympathy toward Lindir and instinctively knew that confiding in him had been hard on the minstrel. However, he deeply appreciated the trust Lindir obviously placed in him.

 

“Yes, Magolion sought me out in my rooms this afternoon.” Erestor gently rubbed the knuckles of Lindir’s hand. “But my brother failed to break up this friendship. It has become stronger since then.”

 

Elrond, who had been observing Lindir, read old pain in the forest-green eyes. “And now you think he will cause more problems?”

 

Lindir nodded. “I know how Magolion thinks. I am safe from him, because I am useless to him now. But he can still hurt Erestor.”

 

“In what way?” Elrond’s head was reeling with all this new information.

 

“Once Magolion knows that Erestor cares for Glorfindel he will go after our dear Captain. He will seduce Glorfindel just to hurt Erestor.” Lindir moistened his lips. “And Glorfindel is just as vulnerable as Erestor.”

 

Elrond nodded in understanding. “I will keep a close eye on Magolion and our stubborn Balrog slayer.” He briefly paused to consider his next step. “Lindir, will you stay with Erestor tonight? I can keep him company tomorrow.”

 

“I will stay with him,” confirmed Lindir, only now fully realizing what he had just told Elrond. The half-Elf now knew how stupid and naïve he had been in the past. Did Elrond now think less of him? But just then Erestor soothingly rubbed the back of his hand, easing his thoughts a little. Elrond was way out of his league anyway, so why worry about the Peredhel’s opinion of him?

 

Elrond got to his feet, pondering everything he had learned tonight. “I will order the guards to monitor Magolion and I will continue to talk some sense into Glorfindel.”

 

“And I will take good care of Erestor,” promised Lindir passionately. His heart filled with a sweet longing, watching Elrond leave the room. If only…

 

“Lindir, you should tell him,” whispered Erestor softly – sleepily. Today’s events were taking its toll on him.

 

“No, he is above my station. I would only make a fool out of myself by confessing my feelings to him.” Holding Erestor close, he listened to the raven-haired Elf’s breathing and was relieved when his friend finally succumbed to sleep. “Yes, sleep, my friend, and gather your strength. We aren’t alone in our fight against Magolion. Elrond is now on our side as well.” And they would deal with Glorfindel in their own time. For now, he needed to concentrate on Erestor’s needs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Before retiring to his quarters, Elrond contacted the commanding officer, instructing the guard to keep an eye on Magolion. He didn’t want the Elf

– who presented a real, potential danger – loose in Imladris. He also considered seeking out Glorfindel to warn him, but decided that could wait until tomorrow. Tired, he headed for his rooms, whilst Erestor and Lindir’s admissions replayed in his head. He intensely disliked Magolion after hearing Lindir’s heartfelt admission. It was very understandable that the minstrel felt used.

 

Closing the doors to his rooms behind him, Elrond headed for the bed, where he sat down. When had everything become so complicated? Only a year ago Erestor and Glorfindel had been happy – or had seemed happy. Suddenly he wondered how long Erestor had been pretending that he was happy in love.

 

He shrugged out of his formal robes, and clad only in his nightshirt, he slid between the covers. His mind involuntarily returned to something Glorfindel had said; that everybody always left him, and that he would be alone in the end. He understood the blond to a certain degree, because he felt the same way at times. And this was one of those times. But the difference between them was that he was more than willing to try again. He was still looking for a new mate, someone to share his life with after Celebrían had left for Valinor.

 

And being honest with himself, he had to admit that he felt drawn to one Elf in particular. The first thing about Lindir that had captivated him right from the start had been the white-haired Elf’s enchanting voice. He had seldom heard someone sing with such palpable emotion. /And he is beautiful./ White hair was rather unique among his kind and it set Lindir apart from the rest. The large, green eyes spoke to him without the use of words and he often read desire in them. But what exactly Lindir desired remained hidden to him.

 

Yes, Lindir would be a good mate for him. The minstrel was artistic, friendly, always prepared to lend a helpful hand and desirable in every way he could think of. But after finding out how brutally Lindir’s trust had been abused by Magolion in the past, he suspected that the last thing the minstrel was interested in was building another relationship. /What a shame./

 

Grabbing a pillow, he hugged it tightly and cuddled up to it, imagining Lindir was in his arms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magolion used the cover of the night to extract useful information from the guards on duty, the cooks in the kitchen and the chambermaids. After only a few hours of intense questioning, he knew almost everything of his brother’s life here. Apparently Erestor was highly respected and a few Elves had even admitted being attracted to Erestor to him.

 

But he had learned the most important bit from a stable hand. Apparently Erestor had a lover. A sly grin had surfaced on his face, finally understanding why Erestor had nearly thrown him out of his room. /Now, dear brother, let us see if you have developed a better taste since Lindir./

 

He had questioned the stable hand further, finding out more about Glorfindel, the alleged Balrog slayer and reborn Captain of Gondolin. /A warrior? Erestor fell for a warrior? That is a first!/ That fact would make this even easier!

 

When he eventually also learned that Erestor had moved out of Glorfindel’s rooms, signaling a break of some sort, it was then that he knew he could make his brother truly miserable by seducing Glorfindel.

 

After thanking the stable hand for supplying this information, he returned to his guest quarters. Sitting down in front of the dresser, he began to braid his hair. He put in warrior braids, which would doubtlessly draw Glorfindel’s attention during their first encounter, which he would carefully orchestrate.

 

He had always hated his half-brother. Erestor had ruined their lives and in time he had learned to hate his younger brother. He had vowed to make sure Erestor was as miserable as he was. One of the things he had done to accomplish that was to steal Erestor’s first lover away from him.

 

Erestor had been blissfully inexperienced when it came to courting another Elf, something he had been quick to use against his brother. It had been so easy to steal Erestor’s lovers away from him and seducing Glorfindel would be the crown on his work. Apparently Erestor and the warrior had been together for a thousand years, so that meant his brother truly loved the Elda. Seeing Glorfindel in his arms would cause his brother the greatest possible heartbreak, which was just… perfect!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Looking into the mirror, Glorfindel cringed at his reflection. He had tossed and turned throughout the night, never finding sleep for long. Guilt had woken him up, and at one time he had even started down the corridor to ask Erestor for forgiveness and to beg the dark-haired Elf to take him back. But he had turned around once he had realized where he was heading and why.

 

He collected his clothes and slipped into green leggings and a gray shirt. After stepping into his boots, he draped his riding cloak over his shoulders, determined to find distraction by joining the patrol that left in the afternoon. In the morning he would train with his men. He had to do his best to avoid running into Erestor, for he had no idea how he would react when seeing his former lover.

 

Stepping into the courtyard, he headed for the training grounds in need of some distraction. All he saw in his mind’s eye was Erestor, standing in front of him, crying. The pleading expression in those dark, chocolate brown eyes nearly caused his heart to break again. “I am sorry, Erestor, but this is for the best.” Erestor had moved out of his rooms, signaling their relationship had ended.

 

Once he had reached the training grounds, he noticed he was a tad early. The guards hadn’t arrived yet, but there was already one Elf practicing his sword fighting skills. Leaning against the trunk of a tree he watched this Elf. The dark-haired warrior was obviously a skilled swordsman who knew how to wield his weapon effectively. The movements were fluid and graceful and spoke of considerable strength. This stranger could easily take out several Orcs. His curiosity piqued, Glorfindel wondered about the Elf’s identity. The stranger wasn’t wearing Imladris’ colors and Glorfindel was fairly certain he had never seen him before.

 

Suddenly the Elf turned around, apparently lunging at an imaginary foe and Glorfindel’s heart missed a beat. For one moment he thought he was looking at Erestor, but this Elf’s eyes weren’t chocolate brown. /Who is he?/ Intrigued, he continued to watch.

 

Magolion felt Glorfindel’s eyes on him and smirked privately. His plan was working. He had seen Glorfindel leave his rooms, sword girded around his waist and had figured the blond would head to the training grounds first. So he had made sure Glorfindel would find him here. Going through his daily practice allowed him to show off his skills with a sword, hoping to impress the Elda. Once he had Glorfindel’s attention, the rest would be easy.

Ending his routine, he sheathed his sword and acted surprised at finding Glorfindel close. “My Lord, am I trespassing? I am a mere stranger here and unfamiliar with Imladris’ customs.” Bowing respectfully, he made sure he met Glorfindel’s gaze, knowing a true warrior never shied away from eye contact.

 

“You aren’t trespassing. These are the training grounds and I must say you are skilled with a blade.” Glorfindel had trembled softly at hearing the other’s voice for the first time. Even that voice bore some semblance to his former lover’s. His heart still ached for Erestor, but he couldn’t take the risk that the advisor would leave him again. He had to accept that their relationship was over and that he was available again, able to court someone else... Someone he didn’t love and this Elf intrigued him.

 

“Thank you for your kind words,” said Magolion, accepting the compliment. “It has been some time though since I have had the opportunity to train properly.”

 

“You are new to Imladris,” said Glorfindel, trying to keep the conversation going. “Where are you from?”

 

“I resided in Mirkwood for some time, but my heart eventually guided me here. I heard of Imladris’ beauty and had to see for myself.” Magolion saw the interest in Glorfindel’s eyes and knew his plan would work as long as he proceeded carefully. “I took part in many of King Thranduil’s border patrols and sharpened my skills fighting Orcs and deadly spiders. After seeing such darkness I needed to see Imladris’ light.”

 

Glorfindel nodded in understanding. “The valley is beautiful and its ruler very wise. You will enjoy your stay here.” Glorfindel raised a hand, signaling for the raven-haired warrior to follow him. “But I should mind my manners. I haven’t introduced myself yet. I am Glorfindel.” His companion suddenly stopped in his tracks and when he looked at him, he found the other’s eyes big and filled with respect.

 

“I have heard many tales of your valor, Lord Glorfindel,” said Magolion, pretending to be awed in Glorfindel’s presence. “I am honored to make your acquaintance.” Bowing again, he sat down on the grass when Glorfindel signaled for him to seat himself beside the blond. “My name is Magolion.”

 

Glorfindel nodded, pleased. “Will you stay here for long or are you merely passing through?” He was definitely interested in learning more about this Elf who so closely resembled Erestor in appearance. The fact that Magolion was also a warrior attracted him even more to this raven-haired Elf, figuring they had more in common than Erestor and he ever had.

 

“I plan on staying for quite some time, my Lord.”

 

“Please, no titles,” said Glorfindel, quickly correcting him. “We are warriors and there is no need for titles among peers.”

 

Magolion inclined his head in approval. “But of course, Glorfindel. I am not fond of titles either.” He smiled warmly at the blond and when Glorfindel returned that smile he already felt victorious. Seducing Glorfindel and luring him into his bed would be easier than he had thought!

 

 

Beta read by Sulien

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Love of my Life

Part 4 

 

 

Lindir woke first the next morning and smiled dotingly at the lap full of dark-haired Elf sprawled across him. It was beyond him how anyone – let alone Glorfindel – could reject Erestor. Looking up, he caught Arien’s first golden rays illuminating the rooms. It was time to wake Erestor and take him to Elrond’s study. He did think it would be best if Erestor wasn’t alone for the next few days. “Erestor? Wake up.” Tickling Erestor ever so lightly, he smiled as a muffled groan escaped his friend’s lips.

 

Erestor reluctantly woke up, and raising his head, he met Lindir’s sparkling eyes. A smile began to form on his face, but then faded as he recalled what had happened yesterday. “You are a good friend,” he said in an awkward tone. “I am glad you stayed.”

 

Lindir nodded in understanding. “We will eat breakfast together and then you should join Elrond in his study.”

 

“You will make sure I get no time to brood,” said Erestor wistfully.

 

“I will do my best.” Lindir then leaned in closer and pressed a brotherly kiss on Erestor’s brow. “Why don’t you take a bathe? I will arrange for breakfast in the meantime.”

 

With slow and sluggish movements Erestor pushed himself upright. After swaying on his feet momentarily, he disappeared into the bathroom, where he first splashed ice cold water on his face. He stared in the mirror, but then quickly looked away again. He simply couldn’t face himself this morning. Last night’s argument with Glorfindel returned to him and he wondered what he could have done differently. Maybe he had been wrong to simply move out of the blond’s rooms. Maybe they should have discussed it first, but when had he been supposed to do that? Glorfindel had avoided him most of the time. No, moving out had been the right thing to do. He simply couldn’t have spent another night in Glorfindel’s bed.

 

“Erestor? Is something amiss?” Lindir stood near the doorway and had been alerted, not hearing any water fill the pool.

 

“Lindir, everything is fine. I just need a moment to collect myself.” Erestor filled the pool, removed his nightshirt and stepped into the warm water. Cocooned by warmth, his tears reappeared, leaving his eyes. Sobbing softly, he mourned the loss of his love.

 

“Erestor? Are you crying?” Lindir had heard the sobbing and had grown increasingly worried. Not getting an answer, he quickly made his decision and entered the bathroom. Erestor was shaking like a leaf and the sobs grew increasingly louder. Following his instincts, he shrugged out of his robes and descended into the pool, quickly wrapping Erestor in a tight hug. Words were redundant, knowing that Erestor merely needed to feel someone close. They stayed like that for long minutes and when Erestor’s sobs finally faded, the dark eyes finally met his. “Feeling better now?”

 

“A bit,” said Erestor, his voice hitching. “I wonder what is wrong with me.”

 

“You are mourning the loss of your relationship,” explained Lindir patiently. “Which is normal.”

 

“It is?” Erestor wiped away his tears and began to free himself of Lindir’s embrace. “I need to stop doing this.”

 

“Crying will help you heal.” Lindir let him go and Erestor left the pool.

 

Erestor quickly dried his skin and hair, and then stepped into the bedroom to select today’s robes. Lindir also dried himself and then joined his friend in the bedroom, where he slipped into clean robes, which Erestor kindly lent him. “Erestor?” Coming to a standstill in front of his friend, he cupped Erestor’s chin in his palm. “You *do* know that you can always come to me when you are in need of a friend? Don’t lock yourself up in here.”

 

Erestor managed a weak smile and hugged Lindir close. “Thank you for your continued support.” He was thankful that Lindir remained at his side after everything they had gone through. “And be careful around Magolion. He might not have the means to hurt you, but you should remain alert nonetheless.”

 

Lindir smiled encouragingly. “Magolion has hurt me in the past, that is correct, but I came out of it much stronger. He won’t be able to intimidate or use me ever again.” He would do his best to protect his loved ones from Magolion’s evil scheming. “And Elrond now knows as well.”

 

“Elrond…” Erestor smiled conspiringly. “Maybe we could meet for dinner? The three of us?” He couldn’t have Glorfindel, but maybe he could help Lindir attract Elrond’s attention. Until now he had refrained from meddling in his friend’s affairs, but he wanted Lindir to have a chance with the half-Elf.

 

“Erestor, I am never invited to those dinners. They are private.” Lindir carefully steered his friend toward the doorway.

 

“Maybe you can sing for us?” He would excuse himself during dinner, giving them a chance to spend the evening together. Yes, that might work! Plotting in this way also distracted him from thinking about Glorfindel too much. The blond was never out of his thoughts, but focusing on Lindir and Elrond provided him with a distraction, plus he was helping his friends to get to know each other better.

 

Lindir smiled sweetly. “I will sing for Elrond and you any time.”

 

“We are agreed then!” said Erestor, momentarily cheerful. “We will have dinner together!” Seeing Lindir’s slightly amused expression, he knew his friend had realized his hidden agenda, but he didn’t mind. /If Elrond is only remotely interested in you I will make sure he finds out that you are in love with him!/

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After breakfast Lindir and Erestor went separate ways. Erestor headed for Elrond’s study, whilst Lindir sought out the Hall of Fire to compose music and work on new poetry with his fellow musicians. But in order to reach the Hall of Fire he had to pass by the stables and his heart stopped beating momentarily, seeing Glorfindel and Magolion standing in the courtyard, the blond already mounting Asfaloth. Magolion held the reins of a black stallion, which he had never seen before. “No, this cannot be happening.” He had been afraid that Magolion would move in on Glorfindel, but he hadn’t thought it would happen this quickly!

 

What was he to do? Glorfindel was smiling warmly at Magolion, apparently joking with the raven-haired Elf. /He has no idea he is trying to befriend a snake that will lash out at him and bite him when he least expects it./ He had to do something before Glorfindel made the worst mistake of his life! He knew how cunning Magolion was when it came to hurting Erestor.

 

Running down the stairs, he quickly headed toward them, trying to catch Glorfindel’s gaze. “Glorfindel!”

 

Glorfindel frowned questioningly, seeing Lindir approach. Recalling that Lindir had been comforting Erestor last night, he couldn’t help but feel curious. “Lindir, what brings you here?” Was something wrong with Erestor? He didn’t want to care, but he did.

 

Lindir smiled at Glorfindel. He had to do something now, before Magolion found a way to use his likeness to Erestor to his advantage. “I see you have already met Erestor’s brother Magolion?” He smiled sweetly at the dark-haired Elf, seeing instant anger appear in the green eyes. /He didn’t want Glorfindel to find out just yet!/

 

“Erestor’s brother?” Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, fastening on Magolion.

 

“Ai, you know my half-brother? I didn’t know that.” Magolion tried to look repentant. “I haven’t seen Erestor for centuries and I forgot that you could be acquainted.”

 

“You are Erestor’s brother?” Glorfindel stared at Magolion in disbelief.

 

Lindir felt a flash of satisfaction, realizing Glorfindel was now looking at Magolion in a different way.

 

“Yes, Erestor is my younger half-brother.” Magolion smiled brilliantly at Glorfindel. “And I am impressed and proud, finding him holding the position of chief advisor at this court. I look forward to enveloping him in my arms again. I hope he will find a moment to welcome his brother to Imladris.”

 

Lindir’s eyes narrowed dangerously. /You hate Erestor./ But Magolion was an excellent actor and he could tell to his utter dismay that Glorfindel believed the lies.

 

Glorfindel felt dizzy when he realized he had tried to impress Erestor’s brother. /That is why he reminds me of Erestor so much. I should have known./ He sighed and then addressed Lindir again. “Is there anything you want?”

 

“Lord Elrond wants you to report to him after today’s patrol instead of counselor Erestor, for understandable reasons.” Lindir caught a flash of ‘something’ in Glorfindel’s eyes, but failed to label the expression.

 

“Understood.” Glorfindel signaled for Magolion to mount. He had promised to show the dark-haired Elf around Imladris and couldn’t go back on his offer now. But before leaving, he leaned in closer and whispered, “Lindir, how fares Erestor?”

 

Lindir’s features softened, once more reminded that Glorfindel still loved Erestor, but for some reason the warrior was fighting admitting that truth. “He’s trying to deal with the loss.”

 

“The loss?” Realization suddenly hit Glorfindel hard.

 

“Losing you, Glorfindel,” said Lindir softly. Finding that Magolion was waiting for Glorfindel near the stables, he used this moment to warn the blond. It was up to Glorfindel to heed his warning or not, but he couldn’t simply stand by and let the Elda head toward his ruin. “A word, Glorfindel.”

 

The blond nodded, but was growing impatient, uncertain what else Lindir wanted to address.

 

“Magolion and Erestor aren’t friends. I wouldn’t get caught up between them if I were you. Most certainly not if you ever want to rekindle your relationship with Erestor.” Lindir hoped he had phrased that tactfully enough, as he didn’t want to sound condemning of Glorfindel’s actions.

 

“Lindir, you might mean well, but I decide whom to befriend or not,” said Glorfindel slightly defensively. He understood what Lindir was trying to say, but he disliked the idea that the minstrel was warning him not to befriend Magolion.

 

“Magolion will only bring you pain and grief,” said Lindir, speaking from personal experience. “But it seems you need to find out for yourself.” He had done everything he could and now turned away from the blond.

 

“Lindir?” Glorfindel reached forward and managed to rest one hand on the Elf’s shoulder. When Lindir looked at him, Glorfindel saw concern in the green eyes; concern which was aimed at him. “You will be there for Erestor, won’t you?”

 

Lindir nodded once. “But I shouldn’t have to be there for him. He needs you, Glorfindel. He still loves you.”

 

“I know he loves me,” said Glorfindel in a miserable tone. For one moment it seemed as if he wanted to add something, but then he pressed his heels into Asfaloth’s flanks, steering his horse toward Magolion. He had chosen his path and now he had to walk it alone.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond rose from behind his desk the moment Erestor entered his study. His advisor carried several scrolls, which needed careful reading, but first he studied the dark-haired Elf. Looking closely, he saw a faint echo of last night: red-rimmed eyes, which were still slightly swimming with emotion. Erestor was trying hard to pretend he was fine, but Elrond wasn’t fooled. “Erestor, please sit down and join me for tea.” He had prepared this herbal tea especially for Erestor, hoping it would soothe his friend’s nerves.

 

Sitting down opposite Elrond, Erestor placed the scrolls on the desk. “These are on Orc activity mostly,” he said, not looking forward to answering the half-Elf’s questions about his mental state. Seeing the concerned look in Elrond’s calm eyes, he knew it was only a matter of time before the questions came pouring out.

 

Elrond handed Erestor a cup of herbal tea and then leaned back in his chair, nursing his own hot drink. He gave Erestor a moment to settle down and Elrond sipped his tea carefully, as it was still awfully hot.

 

Realizing it was best to get this over with, Erestor volunteered the information Elrond probably wanted. “Lindir stayed with me last night. He doesn’t think I should be alone for longer periods of time. He thinks I am going to brood about Glorfindel.”

 

“Is he right?” Elrond offered Erestor a slice of almond cake, knowing it was the advisor’s favorite.

 

Although Erestor wasn’t hungry, he gave in and ate. He hadn’t eaten much at breakfast and knew he had to keep up his strength in these stressful times. “Yes, I tend to brood. Lindir knows me well.”

 

“I must confess that last night took me aback. I knew Lindir and you were friends, but I had no idea you were *that* close.”

 

Seeing a chance to compliment Lindir, Erestor said, “Lindir is a kind and romantic soul and I enjoy talking to him. We have grown close these last few millennia, especially after Magolion hurt him.”

 

Elrond nodded. “That is another thing that surprised me; Magolion. I had no idea you had a brother.”

 

“Half-brother. I try to avoid talking about him, as we aren’t on the best terms – which is an understatement if I may say so. Magolion has always hated me and Lindir paid the price for that loathing.”

 

Now that the topic was back to Lindir, Elrond shifted curiously in his chair. “So Magolion used Lindir in order to get to you?”

 

“Magolion thought that he was stealing my lover away from me, but Lindir never was my lover. Magolion didn’t believe me when I told him so. I didn’t think it was necessary to warn Lindir about my brother. When I found out Magolion had seduced him it was already too late. He had told Lindir that he loved him and that they would bind themselves in a ceremony. Lindir, who was at that point in love with my brother, fell for it. He has regretted it ever since.”

 

Elrond felt saddened that Lindir’s trust had been abused in such a way. “I cannot order Magolion to leave Imladris until he has wronged someone.”

 

“At that point it might already be too late.” Erestor sighed deeply, sipped his tea and growing restless, he rose to his feet to pace the study. His pacing took him close to the window and he absentmindedly looked outside, hearing noise coming from the courtyard. “Oh, no…”

 

Alarmed at the desolate tone of Erestor’s voice, Elrond quickly rose from his chair and joined his friend, also looking outside to find out what was upsetting his advisor. Glorfindel had dismounted and one of the stable hands was leading Asfaloth toward the tables. A dark-haired Elf stood next to the blond, smiling brilliantly and ever so lightly touching the Elda. “Don’t tell me that is Magolion.”

 

“Yes, that is my half-brother,” confirmed Erestor in a hoarse tone. “He didn’t waste any time.” His heart contracted with pain, finding that Glorfindel was ever so slightly leaning into Magolion’s touch whenever his brother rested a hand on the small of the Elda’s back.

 

“I cannot believe Glorfindel would fall for him.” Elrond determinedly shook his head. “I do think he still loves you.”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” said Erestor in sudden understanding. “Glorfindel feels I abandoned him by moving out and that is why he ended things with me. He is afraid, Elrond, afraid to commit to me. With Magolion there won’t be any commitment. My half-brother isn’t looking for a lover or a mate, he is merely seducing Glorfindel to hurt me.”

 

“I cannot understand why he wants to hurt you. You are brothers!”

 

“But Magolion and I were never friends,” said Erestor in a thoughtful tone, feeling strangely numb. His eyes followed the two Elves until they had entered the Last Homely House and disappeared from view. “We never shared a bond like you and Elros did,” he said, seeking out Elrond’s eyes, “Or a tight connection like Elladan and Elrohir. Magolion and I are too different to get along.”

 

“But still…” Elrond wished he had visited with Glorfindel yesterday evening instead of postponing it. Maybe then Glorfindel wouldn’t have fallen for Magolion’s manipulation. “I will talk to him later.”

 

“I doubt that will make a difference,” whispered Erestor, strangely calmly. “And we shouldn’t forget that Glorfindel is an adult who can make his own decisions. He won’t listen to you and Magolion won’t give up on seducing Glorfindel.”

 

“Aiya, is there anything I can do to help?” offered Elrond, frustrated that he couldn’t solve this situation for Erestor.

 

“Glorfindel is on his own now,” said Erestor softly, trying to calm down the thundering of his heart, realizing he would never feel the blond’s arms wrapped around him again. “We can only hope that he will realize Magolion isn’t what he pretends to be.”

 

Acting instinctively, Elrond reached out and folded an arm around his friend’s shoulders, guiding him back to his chair. “I don’t want you to sit in your rooms tonight – alone and brooding. Join me for dinner and maybe a game of chess later?”

 

Erestor gave Elrond a grateful smile. “Invite Lindir as well. He has a great singing voice.”

 

Elrond nodded his approval, liking the idea of spending time with Lindir. “I will invite him.” He briefly wondered about the faint grin on Erestor’s face, but when it was gone a moment later, he thought he had just imagined it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,

For ever blest, since here did lie

And here with lissom limbs did run

Beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,

Luthien Tinuviel

More fair than mortal tongue can tell.

Through all to ruin fell to the world

And were dissolved and backward hurled

Unmade into the old abyss,

Yet were its making good, for this –

The dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea –

That Luthien for a time should be.

 

Elrond wiped away the tear Lindir’s voice had managed to draw from his eyes. The minstrel’s voice was sweet and full of emotion, making him feel part of the song. “You have a rare gift, my friend.”

 

Lindir blushed at hearing Elrond’s compliment. He had been stunned to hear that he was invited to join the two Elves in Elrond’s rooms for dinner, but quickly realized Erestor had had his hand in this. “Thank you, my Lord.” Shifting on his chair, he fumbled the fabric of his robes, feeling strangely shy and awkward. He briefly looked up to meet Elrond’s probing eyes, and seeing the emotion in them, he quickly averted them, looking straight into Erestor’s amused ones. /He set me up!/

 

Erestor read Lindir’s face like an open book. Yes, he had arranged this and planned to retire to his rooms in a few minutes. Maybe an evening alone would work wonders where Lindir and Elrond were concerned, but first… “Their love was such sweet bitter pain.” And so was his, for his heart still ached for Glorfindel, but he ruthlessly pushed that need away, telling himself to focus on Lindir and Elrond instead. Both Lindir and Elrond gave him concerned looks and he forced himself to smile reassuringly. “But the time has come to let go of past loves and to look toward the future.”

Erestor smiled, as this was going as planned. “Pray tell, Elrond, does anyone special warm your heart?”

 

Lindir was now blushing furiously, wishing the ground would open and swallow him. Erestor wasn’t going to do this to him, was he? No, his friend would never expose him in such a way! He had to believe that!

 

Elrond reminded himself that Erestor probably had a good reason for asking this question and Lindir had turned a charming shade of red. Was it possible that…? Could Lindir be in love with him? No, he couldn’t possibly be that lucky, but then again, Erestor was asking and Lindir blushing, even averting his eyes. He decided to take the risk. “Yes, there is a certain someone.”

 

“A male Elf?” probed Erestor, noticing the meaningful looks Elrond was giving Lindir.

 

“Yes.” Elrond smiled encouragingly at the two Elves.

 

“Hum…” Erestor cleared his throat, hoping he was reading Elrond right. The half-Elf had never mentioned anything to him about being attracted to Lindir, but then again, Elrond was entitled to his privacy. “You see, Lindir here has a special someone too, but he is too shy to tell his beloved.”

 

“Erestor!” Shocked, Lindir pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet. “You promised not to tell him!” Realizing he had just given himself away, he quickly covered his mouth and tried to flee the room, heading for the doorway. But Elrond moved faster and blocked his path.

 

“Wait!” Elrond’s thoughts raced, hoping he had understood correctly. “Wait, Lindir, please!” Gathering a shaky hand in his, he guided the minstrel back to their table and made sure he sat down. Pulling up an empty chair, he sat down next to Lindir, momentarily forgetting about Erestor. “Did I understand correctly? Am *I* that special someone?” Staring into Lindir’s big, frightened, and embarrassed eyes, he held his breath, hoping Lindir would be honest with him.

 

“Erestor promised to keep quiet,” grumbled Lindir, displeased.

 

“I did remain quiet for three thousand years,” said Erestor slowly, making eye contact with his friend. “But honestly, Lindir, I also told you to admit your feelings to Elrond.” He felt a bit guilty for betraying Lindir’s trust in him, but if he read Elrond right, Lindir might thank him later!

 

“You shouldn’t have told him!” objected Lindir.

 

“Well, technically, I didn’t tell him,” said Erestor smugly, “You did.”

 

Lindir sighed, distressed. “I am not talking to you.”

 

But Erestor knew Lindir didn’t mean it. He also knew it was time to give them some privacy. “I will join you tomorrow in your study, Elrond.” Faking a huge yawn, he rose from his chair and stretched. “I am tired.”

 

“I will accompany you!” Lindir, seeing a way out of this awkward situation, tried to jump up from his chair, but Elrond’s hold on his hand made him sit down again, hanging his head in defeat.

 

“No, you will stay here and we will talk,” decreed Elrond. His gaze shifted from the minstrel to Erestor and he gave his advisor a thankful smile. “He is in the best hands with me. I won’t hurt him.”

 

“I know you won’t,” said Erestor firmly. He briefly squeezed Lindir’s shoulder for support and then left the room, giving them a chance to talk. As he continued walking, he suddenly realized he was on his way to Glorfindel’s rooms and immediately turned around, afraid to discover Magolion had already found a way into Glorfindel’s bed. Marching toward his own chambers, he mentally prepared himself for a lonely night.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Love of my Life

Part 5

 

 

“Lindir?” Elrond cupped the minstrel’s chin in the palm of his hand and raised the handsome face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” The feline, green eyes danced nervously about in their eye sockets.

 

“I didn’t think you were interested in me in that way.” Lindir swallowed hard, growing increasingly nervous now that Elrond held his stare. “I didn’t even know you were interested in males.”

 

“It has been millennia since I last had a male lover, Lindir.” Elrond rubbed his thumb against the soft skin in a sensual caress. “And to be perfectly honest with you, I had no idea you were attracted to me or I would have acted on it sooner.”

 

Lindir stared at Elrond in disbelief. “But… you are Elrond Half-Elven! You rule Imladris and I… I am a mere minstrel!”

 

“A minstrel who has touched my heart,” said Elrond softly, letting a fingertip ghost over Lindir’s lips, gently tracing them. “And apparently, I touched yours too.”

 

Lindir moistened his lips and closed his eyes, making his next admission. “I never thought you would want me, especially now that you know I let Magolion use me in the past.”

 

“Magolion.” Elrond growled the name. “He had better not come near you. I still remember how to wield my sword.” Unexpectedly, Lindir’s eyes opened and stared at him with open wonder and admiration. “Did you think I would judge you for being in love? Magolion used you to get to Erestor. I would never judge you for that.” Cocking his head, he searched the dark, dilated pupils in a sea of turquoise. “I will make him pay if he dares laying even a finger on you…” His voice trailed off, his tone clearly showing his intentions.

 

Lindir smiled shyly and raised a shaky hand to caress a strand of Elrond’s hair. His touch was hesitant and uncertain, but when Elrond leaned in closer to rub his cheek against the palm of his hand, Lindir began to calm down and accept this, no matter how unexpected it was. “I never thought this day would come. I will thank Erestor later for making me let that one slip.”

 

“He is chief advisor for a reason,” said Elrond smugly. Caressing Lindir’s face, he purred his pleasure at finding the minstrel leaning into the touch. Elrond smiled, realizing their courtship would be slow, sensual and romantic. He was already looking forward to slowly making Lindir his.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel wasn't sure why he was taking Magolion along to his rooms. When Lindir had told him that the dark-haired Elf was Erestor's brother, his first instinct had been to avoid any further contact, but he found comfort in the contact and Magolion was pleasant company. During their ride, he had watched the dark hair dance against the Elf's back and it had been easy to pretend it was Erestor with him and not Magolion.

 

Magolion, who had fallen into step beside Glorfindel, looked at the blond with a predatory expression in his eyes. The Elda literally radiated pent up sexual energy. Seducing him would be easy. "Are you upset because I forgot to mention that I have kin here? I honestly didn’t know you were friends with my brother."

 

"There is more to this than you know," said Glorfindel hesitantly. He didn't want to discuss ending his relationship with Magolion right now. "I was just surprised because Erestor never mentioned you to me." Not once during the thousand years they had spent together had Erestor brought up his brother.

 

"It has been a while since I saw him last," said Magolion, pondering what strategy to use to placate Glorfindel and stop the questions. /He is a warrior and will appreciate it if I act like one too./ He quickly made up his mind and slid an arm around the blond's waist.

 

Glorfindel was briefly stunned at the contact and almost pulled away from Magolion, but in the end his need for close contact won. It had been months since Erestor and he had been intimate and he craved an intimate touch, even if it came from Magolion.

 

"Ah, I feel it too. You need me." Acting quickly, Magolion pushed Glorfindel against the wall, effectively pinning the muscular body with his. Seductively, he rubbed his lower body against Glorfindel's groin, grinning when he encountered the hard bulge beneath the breeches. "You want me."

 

Glorfindel wanted to push Magolion away, but lacked the strength and conviction to do so. "Is it that obvious?" He groaned needily when Magolion rubbed his hard flesh through the fabric of his breeches and suddenly the lacing was undone, warm fingers slipping inside. At the same time an eager and agile tongue teasingly licked his earlobe before teeth pulled it into a warm mouth to suckle on it. "Yes, I need it..."

 

"Then let me. I want you too," whispered Magolion sensually into Glorfindel's ear, whilst the tip of his tongue traced a delicately curved ear tip. He had already slipped one hand inside and now curled his fingers around the slick erection. "I found myself attracted to you the moment I laid eyes on you." Suckling the skin beneath Glorfindel's ear, he left a passion mark above the collar for Erestor to see.

 

"I... want this..." panted Glorfindel, "But we... shouldn’t... do this..." Although Magolion's dexterous fingers did incredible things to his erection, part of him warned him not to go any further. Magolion wasn't Erestor. He didn't love Magolion, didn't even really want him, but Erestor had moved out of his rooms and their relationship had come to an end. Why not lose himself in this fling? His heart missed a beat, finding Magolion had gone down onto his knees in front of him and was now pushing down his breeches to fully free his member. Before he got the chance to object, demanding lips closed over the tip of his erection. A swirling tongue lapped at the slick head and Glorfindel instinctively rested his hands on the dark head, urging Magolion on. Looking at the bobbing head, it was easy to pretend it was Erestor, and not Magolion, bringing him to orgasm.

 

Magolion grinned, relaxed his throat, and took in Glorfindel's length, suckling softly. One hand settled possessively on Glorfindel's buttock, squeezing firmly, whilst his other manipulated the testes. He could tell that the blond was close and hummed softly, letting the sound vibrate around the hard flesh. /Glorfindel is mine now. Erestor, you didn’t take care of his needs. You made it so easy for me!/

 

Glorfindel was nearly delirious, moaning incoherently. Running his fingers through the thick, raven hair, he thought of Erestor, not allowing the truth to settle in; the truth being that Magolion was with him and not Erestor. Thrusting into the welcoming and warm mouth, he quickly found release. His heart thundered madly, but once the waves of ecstasy faded away, he could no longer deny the truth. Seeing Magolion smugly lick him clean, he was overcome with guilt. What he was doing was wrong. Instead of letting Magolion pleasure him, he should be doing his best to win Erestor back. /But Erestor already made his decision./

 

"Glorfindel! Erestor!"

 

Glorfindel's eyes widened with shock. He had easily identified Elladan's voice, and when he looked at the younger half-Elf, he froze with shame.

 

Elladan's glance had been amused, finding his two former tutors in such a compromising position, but it quickly changed into disbelief and then shock, realizing it wasn't Erestor on his knees. The eyes that stared back at him weren’t chocolate brown. "Glorfindel? I thought... Erestor and you...?" Distraught, he mumbled an apology, blushed, and quickly turned around to walk away. When he had happened upon them in the corridor, it hadn't been his intention to watch, but the sensual scene had fascinated him.

 

Realizing it wasn't Erestor with Glorfindel had thoroughly shaken him. /Not Erestor? But I thought Glorfindel and Erestor loved one another./ Elves cheating on each other was unheard of! Finding that his feet had carried him to Elrond's study, he resolutely opened the door without knocking first, in dire need of his father's council. "Ada? I just saw Glorfindel in the corridor and he was with a stranger... They were... being..." Oh, how to phrase this? "Intimate." To his left, something heavy hit the floor with a loud thud, and turning around, Elladan found that Erestor had dropped a book. "Erestor?" Oops, this was bad. Why hadn't he checked if the councilor was present before blurting out something so delicate?

 

Elrond had been studying a map, but now looked up and walked toward his son. "Elladan!" He cast a concerned look in Erestor's direction, wondering how his friend would react to learning this upsetting news. He really needed to have a word with Glorfindel. Such conduct wasn’t appropriate and certainly not for his Captain who should be setting an example for their people!

 

"If you would excuse me... There is a matter I have to attend to." Erestor quickly fled the room, unable to deal with the Peredhil right now.

 

Elrond let Erestor go, realizing his friend needed a moment to compose himself. He would speak with his friend later. "Elladan, why must you always be this careless?" Elrond collapsed onto his chair and signaled for Elladan to approach. He had tried to teach Elladan some diplomacy and tact, but it always seemed to backfire. Looking at his son's face, he realized witnessing such an intimate scene had truly upset Elladan. The younger half-Elf had never expected to find Glorfindel in such a compromising situation with a stranger.

 

"I didn’t know that Erestor was here!" Elladan blushed, hoping Erestor would forgive him for barging in like that. If he had known his former tutor was present he would never have blurted that out! He had seen the hurt in the chocolate brown eyes and would do anything to take his words back.

 

"Ai, 'tis not your fault," said Elrond thoughtfully. "You didn’t know that Erestor and Glorfindel had ended their relationship."

 

Elladan's eyes widened. "They did what? But they seemed so happy!" His heart instinctively went out to Erestor, after having witnessed Glorfindel's public misconduct. The Elda's behavior puzzled him though. He had never known Glorfindel to act in such an unfitting manner before.

 

Elrond nodded once. "I will tell you everything you need to know, but we need to act now and limit the damage which has been done." He planned on talking to Glorfindel personally and sending Elladan to comfort Erestor. Slowly, he rose from his chair, a plan forming in his head. "Walk with me, Elladan. I need your assistance."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel had never before felt so ashamed of his behavior as now. Unable to meet Magolion's eyes, he quickly tucked his shirt in his breeches and redid the lacing. "What we did was wrong."

 

Magolion knew when to back down and give his prey a way out. Looking petulant, he bowed his head. "You are probably right, but my passion for you overwhelmed me and I thought you would welcome my touch."

 

Glorfindel hadn't been expecting those words, and guilt came crashing in on him. "It wasn’t your fault alone. I didn’t stop you." And Elladan had witnessed this escapade. It was only a matter of time before Elrond knew and eventually Erestor. Even if his former lover had been willing to take him back, Erestor would no longer want to touch him now and he didn't blame the advisor. His behavior was utterly unforgivable.

 

Realizing he needed to give Glorfindel some privacy, Magolion took a step away from him. "I am sorry if I trespassed. That was never my intention. I should probably leave now, but maybe we can spar again in the morning?" /Give a little and take a little. Make him feel guilty and feed his need for contact. He doesn’t want to be alone, but after this incident he won't dare look at Erestor ever again. That will drive him back into my arms./ Ah, this was working out well.

 

"I am not sure we should meet again," whispered Glorfindel, uncertainly.

 

Magolion nodded once, not pressuring Glorfindel, knowing pushing the blond would chase him away. "I will be there, just in case you reconsider." After giving Glorfindel's hand one last reassuring squeeze, he released the limb and walked down the corridor, eventually disappearing from view.

 

Glorfindel quickly stepped into his rooms, immediately closing the door behind him. Leaning against the door for support, he panted hard. What in the Valar's name had possessed him to let Magolion do that to him? True, it had been months since he had felt an intimate touch, but this had been uncalled for. But Magolion had made it so easy for him! The dark-haired Elf had practically offered himself to him!

 

"It should never have happened," whispered Glorfindel absentmindedly. "He is Erestor's brother!" But it was too late now for regrets. Elladan had seen them and Glorfindel mentally prepared himself for a confrontation, most likely with Elrond. The ruler of Imladris couldn't condone such misconduct and would call him on it.

 

But how would Erestor react when learning he had acted like a harlot, letting Magolion have his way with him? /Ai, I never wanted to hurt you, Erestor. I still love you... but you left me... like Ecthelion did. Everyone leaves me... Always leaving me alone.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan carefully approached Erestor. It had taken him some time to locate the elusive Elf, but he had eventually found the advisor in one of the more secluded gardens, seated on a bench. The lost expression in the chocolate brown eyes made him halt in his tracks, wondering if he had the right to disturb Erestor whilst the elder Elf was clearly upset. But his former tutor had never let him get away with sulking when he had still been an Elfling. Apparently the tables had been turned and it was now his place to comfort the other Elf.

 

Remaining silent for now, he sat down beside Erestor, occasionally glancing at the other's face. Erestor seemed distant to him and he wasn't even sure the elder Elf had registered his arrival. "Erestor?"

 

Erestor shook himself from his musings. What use was there in worrying about Glorfindel when the blond had obviously found a companion in Magolion? /But Magolion is only using him, you know that,/ his inner voice chided him. /He will hurt Glorfindel./

 

"Erestor? Can you hear me?"

 

Elladan's hand unexpectedly covered his, jolting Erestor back to reality. "Elladan, what are you doing out here? I thought it was your turn to work with the healers today?"

 

"The healers can do without me," said Elladan, softly rubbing the back of Erestor's hand. Erestor had always been a good friend and now it was his turn to be there for the elder Elf. "But you look like you can do with some company."

 

Erestor sighed, resigned, realizing Elrond had told Elladan what had happened these last few days. "I will get used to being alone again, Elladan."

 

Elladan flinched momentarily. "I thought Glorfindel and you were happy. I don’t understand why he would end this relationship and seek out another's company."

 

"My brother's company," whispered Erestor knowingly. Hearing Elladan's sharp intake of breath, he realized that Elrond had not told Elladan about Magolion yet. "Yes, my brother. You heard correctly. Magolion is my half-brother and out hunting Glorfindel."

 

Thoroughly confused, Elladan's eyes met Erestor's. "Please explain this to me?"

 

"My brother and I never got along, pen-neth. He hates me and wants what I have. I had Glorfindel, so now he wants him as well, thinking he can hurt me in that way."

 

"But his actions *are* hurting you!" Elladan had a hard time understanding why one brother would do this to the other. Elrohir would never intentionally hurt him!

 

"That is what he wants, pen-neth." Erestor grew tired of discussing this. "Lindir tried to warn Glorfindel, but he is stubborn and will do his own will. I am afraid Magolion will badly hurt Glorfindel."

 

"Then you must warn Glorfindel yourself. He will surely listen to you!" Caught up in his own passion, Elladan raised Erestor's hand and cradled it tightly against his chest. To him, Erestor and Glorfindel were family. They had helped Elrond and Celebrían raise them and their happiness was important to him. "You cannot let him go toward his doom like that."

 

Erestor gave Elladan a warm smile. "Your loyalty does you credit, Elladan. But your father is already on his way to talk to Glorfindel. I shouldn’t meddle in this matter. Once Magolion realizes I still have an interest in Glorfindel he might hurt him more."

 

"You still love him," said Elladan wistfully. Cocking his head, he easily caught the echo of tears in the chocolate brown eyes.

 

"Of course I still love him." Erestor smiled sorrowfully. "I doubt I will ever stop loving him, but as long as he cannot admit he needs me and commits to me, I will have to love him from afar."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When the knock on his door finally came, Glorfindel actually felt relieved. Waiting had been the hardest part. "Enter." His instincts told him to expect Elrond, though in his heart he hoped it was Erestor.

 

"Glorfindel, we need to talk!" Elrond marched into the room, his robes swirling around him.

 

Glorfindel cringed, easily recognizing Elrond's foul mood. /I don’t blame him for being furious with me./ "Before you say anything, I know I misbehaved in the worst way."

 

Elrond's eyes narrowed. "Just what part of your immature behavior are you referring to?"

 

A violent flinch moved through Glorfindel's frame. "I should never have engaged in such inappropriate behavior in public. I don’t know what I was thinking."

 

"That is the problem, Glorfindel, you aren't thinking!" Elrond impatiently paced the Elda's bedroom. "Glorfindel, he is Erestor's brother!"

 

"I didn’t know that at first," said Glorfindel in a guilty tone.

 

"But Lindir told you! You knew you were getting involved with Erestor's brother when Elladan found you in that corridor. How do you think Erestor feels about this?" Elrond studied him closely, finding regret and guilt in the azure eyes. "Seriously, Glorfindel, what are you doing? Why are you making this so much worse?"

 

Glorfindel drew in a deep breath. "Elrond, I apologize for my misconduct, but don’t tell me to forget about Magolion. I spent one day with him, and we already have more in common than Erestor and I ever had! He is a warrior. He understands me."

 

"He cannot replace Erestor," said Elrond ruefully, "but you need to find that out by yourself. I am afraid you will get hurt though. Even Erestor thinks so and he knows his brother well."

 

"Erestor..." Longing and melancholy echoed in his voice. "No one can replace Erestor."

 

Elrond easily caught the need and love in Glorfindel's voice and once again wondered why the Elda was acting in this way. Moving closer toward his friend, Elrond rested a hand on the blond's shoulder. He waited for Glorfindel to raise his head and look at him. "Why don't you go to Erestor and talk to him? I am sure he will take you back if you admit to making mistakes."

 

"Why should I go to him? Let him come to me! He moved out, I didn't." Pouting, Glorfindel brushed off the half-Elf's hand and he took a step away from him.

 

"Stop being so damn stubborn!" Elrond felt like pulling out his hair, utterly frustrated now that Glorfindel refused to act rationally.

 

Glorfindel raised his head and met Elrond's furious gaze. "I apologized for my behavior, Elrond, and I ensure you it will never happen again, but don’t make my decisions for me. If Erestor still wants me, he should come to me and tell me. If he doesn't..."

 

Elrond brusquely turned around, infuriated that Glorfindel wasn't listening to him. He didn't want Magolion to further hurt Glorfindel, but the blond just wouldn't listen. "Then find out for yourself that Magolion is no good for you!" Contrary to his gentle nature, Elrond slammed the door shut behind him. Glorfindel had never refused his council before and to find the blond beyond reason now was infuriating!

 

Elrond headed for the Hall of Fire, hoping to find Lindir there as he was in need of a listening ear and sound council himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"You must excuse me now, Elladan." It was dinner time and Erestor wasn’t inclined to join them, knowing Magolion would be gloating at his newest conquest. "But I do want you to know that I appreciate you spending time with me when your duties lie elsewhere." He did feel a bit guilty, knowing Elladan was supposed to be assisting the healers.

 

"I am certain Elrohir is helping them by now." His twin had always possessed the uncanny ability to read his mind and Elladan hadn't been shielding his thoughts. "You loved fussing over us when we were children and I love returning the favor now."

 

Erestor graced Elladan with a warm, grateful smile. "You should join your father for dinner. He will surely want you to attend."

 

Elladan gave Erestor a long, pondering look. "No, I won't join my father this evening. I am more in the mood for a private, comfortable dinner for two. Your place or mine?" he asked cheekily, enjoying seeing Erestor's stunned expression.

 

"Elladan?" Erestor hoped Elladan had been jesting.

 

"Seriously, I don’t think it would be good for you to be facing Glorfindel and Magolion now. Maybe we can have dinner in your rooms? You need to eat, and so do I."

 

Erestor smiled in understanding. Elladan had worried him for one moment when he had thought the half-Elf was making a rather indecent proposal.

 

Elladan drew the attention of a servant who was passing by and requested food be sent to the chief councilor's quarters. At the same time, he also asked the she-Elf to inform Elrond that his son and chief councilor wouldn't join him for dinner. The she-Elf blushed slightly, being addressed by the Lord's oldest son and quickly left, fidgeting nervously with the fabric of her dress.

 

Her reaction hadn't been lost on Erestor, who smiled dotingly at the young half-Elf. Falling into step beside Elladan, he wondered, "You are of the right age to choose a mate, still you postpone that decision. Is there no one who captivates your heart?"

 

Elladan gave Erestor a puzzled look, whilst opening the door to the advisor's rooms. "Curious, are you?"

 

Smiling, Erestor nodded once. He walked toward his closet, removed a comfortable evening robe and changed his clothing after going into the bathroom. By the time he returned, the servants had arrived, carrying dinner with them. After setting the food on the table, the maids left, giving them their privacy.

 

Erestor sat down and watched Elladan make himself comfortable. The half-Elf lay sprawled in his chair, letting his feet bungle over the arm rest. In his opinion Elladan had always been the more open and expressive twin, at times even reminding him of Elros, whilst Elrohir had definitely taken after his father – being the more quiet and brooding one. "You never answered my question, Elladan." Looking at the food, he felt slightly nauseous. The last thing he wanted was to eat, as he still felt sick with longing for Glorfindel, but he knew he had to keep up his strength and reluctantly started on the soup, dipping pieces of bread in the warm liquid. "So, pray tell me, have you already lost your heart to someone?" To his utter delight, Elladan blushed and spilled some of his soup.

 

"I would rather not answer." Elladan wondered how he had gotten himself in this situation. He had just wanted to keep Erestor company and to make sure the elder Elf wasn't brooding!

 

Erestor leaned back in his chair and his eyes narrowed, considering his possibilities. "Would your love by any chance be silver-haired, Elladan?" Oops, now Elladan spat out the soup he had dared drinking. Elegantly, Erestor offered him a napkin to limit the damage done. "I gather I am right?" He knew he shouldn't be teasing Elladan, but it kept him from worrying about Glorfindel and Magolion.

 

"How did you know?" Elladan gave Erestor a shy look. Did his former tutor really know who he was in love with? But he had been so careful! Not even his secret love knew he was the object of Elladan's desire!

 

"One only needs eyes to see," said Erestor in a kind tone. "You didn’t tell Orophin yet?"

 

Elladan hung his head in defeat. "Nothing ever escapes your attention. Yes, you are right. I am in love with him." Peeking at Erestor's calm, chocolate brown eyes, he added, "I didn’t tell him. And I don’t think I ever will."

 

Erestor frowned. "And why is that?" Elladan wasn't shy, at least he didn't think so.

 

"Orophin lives in ‘Lorien and my destiny lies here in Imladris. I doubt he is willing to leave the Golden Wood to be with me. It would be too big a sacrifice." Puzzled, he watched as Erestor's expression changed from curiosity to concern.

 

"I am not your father, but may I give you some parental advice?" Elladan was old enough to be his son and he had often felt like a parent, when helping raise the twins.

 

"Of course." Elladan curled his fingers around the cup of hot tea, warming his hands. He would never dismiss Erestor's council, knowing that even his father heeded it.

 

"Take the risk and tell him. Don't worry about what can happen. Find out what *will* happen. Maybe you are right and you will be disappointed because Orophin doesn’t feel the same way or wants to stay in ‘Lorien. But maybe he *does* feel the same way and he is willing to live here. You won't know until you ask." Reaching out, he rested a hand on Elladan's. "Trust me on this. Love is too precious to turn away."

 

"You would know," escaped Elladan lips, unintentionally, and he immediately regretted those words. "I am sorry... I didn’t want to bring up Glorfindel." He involuntarily held his breath, hoping he hadn't made Erestor upset. But the elder Elf surprised him by smiling serenely and uncovering a strand of golden hair from his robes.

 

"When Glorfindel and I admitted our feelings for one another, I asked him for a lock of his hair." Erestor tenderly ran his fingertips along the golden strand. "And he gave it to me. I have carried it with me since then. 'Tis my most treasured possession... Even now that we are no longer together." His eyes filled with love and longing, and it wasn't long until the first tears appeared. Slightly embarrassed at crying in front of Elladan, he quickly wiped them away with his sleeve. "I am not the best company right now, pen-neth."

 

Elladan reversed the hold on their hands and now cradled Erestor's in his. "Is there still a chance that the two of you might get together again? I do think the two of you are very right for each other."

 

Erestor carefully considered the half-Elf's question. "I hope so, but I doubt it. Glorfindel has never been able to commit to me and has always been afraid I would eventually leave him. When I finally moved out of his rooms he saw his worst fears come true, but he drove me into moving out. I never wanted to leave him, Elladan. I still love him." Dreamily, he fingered Glorfindel's golden lock. "I will always love him."

 

"Ai, Erestor." Elladan gently squeezed Erestor's hand. Although he should be heading back to the Healing House he was unable to leave Erestor alone in his suffering. Hopefully Elrohir understood and didn't mind taking over his duties for the night. In answer, he felt his twin respond, reassuring him he would help the healers instead. Focusing on Erestor once more, he smiled encouragingly at his former mentor. "Maybe Glorfindel will come to his senses."

 

Erestor's smile became sorrowful. He didn't dare hope Glorfindel would. Quickly changing their subject, he said, "Elladan, you shouldn’t be sitting with me when you are needed elsewhere."

 

"I told you earlier; Elrohir has taken over my duties. I am not missed. I can stay here with you." Elladan's smile suddenly burst with pleasure. "I finally get the chance to fuss over you for a change! You used to be a mother hen when Elrohir and I were little! Now it is my turn to mother you!"

 

Erestor suddenly got very worried, seeing a very determined expression in the amused gray eyes. "Pen-neth?"

 

"Oh, we can play chess! Or I can read to you! And I want to tuck you in when you go to sleep!" He was barely able to stay seated as his enthusiasm got the better of him. "Give you a goodnight kiss!"

 

/Oh, the horror!/ Erestor startled at Elladan's enthusiasm. "You were a child back then! I am an adult!"

 

"That doesn’t matter to me," said Elladan, wickedly. "Oh, I am looking forward to this."

 

/Please, someone save me!/ But secretly he enjoyed Elladan's worry and desire to take care of him. They had raised the twins well!

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

Love of my Life

Part 6

 

 

Erestor couldn't really believe it, but Elladan had actually done it. The half-Elf had tucked the blankets around his form and was now leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss onto his brow. Cross-Eyed -- because he was trying to look at his former pupil -- he managed to hold on to his composure when Elladan's lips touched his forehead. This was embarrassing! Why had he ever agreed to this?

 

Elladan was really enjoying himself. Seeing Erestor squirm, he grinned wickedly. "Too bad I like Orophin, or I might have fallen for you instead."

 

Erestor could tell Elladan was teasing him but still... "You are beginning to scare me."

 

"I will take that as a compliment," said Elladan, laughing. He quickly sobered though. "I can stay if you would like me to."

 

"No, that isn’t necessary. I can spend the night alone." It would be strange though, without Lindir for company. But the white-haired Elf most certainly preferred Elrond's company now that they had admitted their feelings to each other. It wouldn't be fair to chain his friend to his side. "You should sleep in your own bed tonight and I am no child that needs watching."

 

Elladan reluctantly agreed, realizing he had done everything he could for Erestor. "If you need anything let me know?"

 

"I will," promised Erestor, thankfully, "And now go, and dream of your silver-haired sentry."

 

Elladan blushed weakly, nodded once, and then left Erestor's rooms, wishing he knew of a way to lessen his former tutor's pain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond found comfort and strength in the fact that Lindir was sitting next to him. The minstrel had sung several songs during the evening, entertaining and distracting him. Beneath the table he reached for Lindir's hand, gently curling his fingers around his beloved's. From the corner of his eye he observed Magolion and Glorfindel in turn. Glorfindel was seated at his table to his left, and Magolion at one of the guests' tables, but he caught them looking at each other several times.

 

Keeping Lindir's warning in mind that Magolion was a ruthless opponent, he realized he had to come up with some sort of game plan. He cared too much for Glorfindel to allow the blond to be hurt further. If only his friend would listen to him!

 

"You cannot really stop Glorfindel if he wants to do this," whispered Lindir, thinking his remark rather bold. Elrond and he had talked much during the evening, but mostly about Erestor and Magolion. Lindir still wasn't sure what to make of this development. Elrond had told him they would go slow and that he wanted to court him properly, but he still wasn't sure what to expect.

 

"But I don’t want to see Glorfindel hurt." Elrond rubbed Lindir's knuckles beneath the table, their hands hidden from view.

 

"At least he had a warning. That is more than I ever had."

 

The traces of bitterness that echoed in Lindir's voice chilled Elrond's heart and he sent a harsh glare in Magolion's direction. Overcome with a fierce protectiveness for his beloved, he hissed, "I will throw him out of Imladris if he even looks the wrong way at you."

 

Lindir was slightly taken aback, hearing that firm tone. "You should worry about Glorfindel instead. I am no longer of any interest to Magolion."

 

Those words touched Elrond's heart. "But you *are* of interest to *me*."

 

Lindir actually blushed. "Maybe you shouldn't say such things in public." He wasn't good at hiding his feelings, and one could easily tell he was in love. He wasn't sure how Elrond's children and household would react to learning this fact.

 

Seeing his beloved's nervousness cautioned Elrond to be more careful in public. "But it *is* true. I *am* interested in you." His gaze met Magolion's for one cold moment and his eyes narrowed, sending the other Elf a clear warning to stay away from his beloved.

 

Magolion understood perfectly, but dismissed the Lord's warning glare. His interest lay with Glorfindel.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor had woken early that morning and had dressed somewhat sluggishly, missing Glorfindel's presence. He caressed the golden lock of hair before slipping it back into a pocket. Sighing his distress, he left his rooms to head for the library where he intended to archive several volumes that had arrived from Lothlórien the other day.

 

Lothlórien. He had visited the Golden Wood several times in service to Elrond and was quite fond of it. Maybe it was time he visited there again? It would definitely put some distance between Glorfindel and he. /That might be just what I need; some time away from Glorfindel./ Though at the same time his heart ached with loneliness, wanting nothing more than the blond close. /But he is with Magolion now./ And his brother would hurt Glorfindel.

 

As he walked down the long corridor, he looked outside. In the distance were the training grounds and he easily identified the two sparring forms, engaged in playful battle. He halted in his tracks, his Elven vision enabling him to follow the elegance and fluidity of the warriors' movements. It was a real shame that Magolion hated him with such a passion. His brother had the makings of a great warrior, but hatred had poisoned him from within and he had long given up on Magolion.

 

Glorfindel lost his footing for the briefest of seconds and was now pushed back against a tree trunk. Magolion didn't waste any time and pressed his body against Glorfindel's, taking the other's lips in a bruising kiss. Feeling sad and lonely, Erestor quickly averted his eyes, continuing his walk, determined to ask Elrond for a favor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Elrohir, can you stay here and work with the healers? I really want to check on Erestor." Elladan gave his twin a pleading look. It was still his turn to work with the healers, but as Elrohir wouldn't leave for patrols for a few more days he hoped his twin would help him out. "He really worries me."

 

Elrohir nodded once. His twin had told him about Erestor and Glorfindel ending their relationship and that development worried him as well. Like Elladan, he cared a lot for their former tutors. "Go on then. I will stay here. But don’t forget to keep me informed."

 

Elladan thanked his twin by bestowing a quick hug on him and then raced out of the Healing House, heading for Erestor's rooms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan froze. He had just past by the stables and was about to leave the training grounds behind him when he caught sight of Glorfindel and Magolion. The two Elves were kissing, and Magolion was running his hands down Glorfindel's sides. Although his instincts told him not to get involved, he couldn't help interfering. "In Elbereth's name, Glorfindel, why are you doing this?"

 

Shocked at being called on his behavior by Elladan, Glorfindel pulled away from Magolion, breaking off all bodily contact. Shuffling his feet, he found that he couldn't be cross with Elladan, knowing he *was* behaving in an odd way. When he had reached the training grounds this morning, he had found Magolion already there and his need for the other Elf had overwhelmed him. Magolion wasn't Erestor, but the Elf was warm and willing, just what he needed. "Elladan, I can explain..."

 

But Elladan cut the blond short. "Glorfindel, don't you know that Erestor is pining for you? Why don't you go to him? Talk to him!" Elladan was only one step away from dragging Glorfindel off to talk to Erestor, but knew he couldn't force his former mentor to face Erestor.

 

Magolion wasn't certain what to do -- how to act. Apparently this young Elf cared greatly about Erestor and he wondered what effect that would have on his prey. "Glorfindel, I don’t want to cause you -- or my brother -- any unease. Maybe it would be best if we stopped this now, before it becomes... more."

 

Glorfindel was tempted to give in, but if he did and Magolion left, he would be alone again. "No, please stay." Turning toward Elladan, he rested his hands on the half-Elf's shoulders and said, "Elladan, you must accept that Erestor and I decided to go separate ways."

 

"But he still loves you," protested Elladan, ignoring Magolion.

 

/And I love him -- still,/ thought Glorfindel, but he didn't admit it aloud. "Pen-neth, why don't you look after Erestor? I am sure he would enjoy some company."

 

"Are you dismissing me?" Elladan stared at his former tutor in disbelief.

 

"I will leave with the patrol within the hour and I need to prepare for departure." Glorfindel hoped Elladan would leave quickly, growing uncomfortable at the way the half-Elf was looking at him. A sense of abandonment and disappointment spoke from those deep gray eyes. "Go and see to Erestor, Elladan." 

 

Elladan moved away from Glorfindel. "I cannot believe you are doing this!" Shaking his head, he finally made eye contact with Magolion and startled at seeing the cold, predatory glare in the other Elf's eyes. /You are going toward your doom, Glorfindel. Why won't you heed our words? Our warnings?/ Sighing deeply, he turned away and continued walking toward Erestor's rooms, hoping to find the elder Elf there.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Elrond? I have a request." Erestor soundlessly entered the Peredhel's study and sat down, waiting for his friend to look up from the scrolls he was reading. Making this request would be hard, but his heart told him it was the right thing to do.

 

Elrond realized the seriousness of the situation when he looked into Erestor's calm and determined eyes. "Yes, what is it, Erestor?" He was surprised to see Erestor here. Hadn't his advisor planned to archive the newly arrived books from Celeborn? "What troubles you?” /Except from Glorfindel and Magolion?/

 

"I want to travel to the Golden Wood and spend some time there. I need to put some distance between Glorfindel and I. I simply cannot watch him fall into my brother's trap." Erestor averted his eyes and stared at the floor. "I need time to sort out my thoughts, my feelings and my needs. I cannot do that when I am focused on Glorfindel and Magolion."

 

"But once you are gone, Magolion can seduce Glorfindel openly!" Elrond didn't agree with Erestor's decision to leave, but also knew he couldn't stop his friend if Erestor's mind was really set.

 

"I disagree. He might lose interest in Glorfindel without me being present to watch the seduction." Erestor gingerly met his friend's eyes. "You must understand that I cannot stay. Seeing them together hurts."

 

Elrond released a deep, tormented sigh. "And for how long will you be gone?"

 

"'Tis autumn now, and there is still enough time for me to travel to Lothlórien before the first snowfall. Once 'tis winter I will have to stay until spring. I might not be back until summer, but I need this time for myself." Erestor gave Elrond a pleading look. He couldn't really leave without his Lord's permission and he hoped Elrond understood how necessary this was for him at this time.

 

"I won't keep you here when your heart dictates a different course," said Elrond, deeply troubled. "But I do think you are making a grave mistake."

 

"Only time will tell," said Erestor thoughtfully. "Do I have your permission to leave tomorrow?"

 

"You will take a proper escort with you," decided Elrond. "Maybe Elladan or Elrohir will want to accompany you. It has been a while since they visited their grandparents." And maybe they would like to see their sister again, as Arwen was staying with Galadriel and Celeborn. "I will ask them."

 

Erestor didn't protest Elrond's decision, as it wasn't safe to travel these days with Orcs and Uruk-Hai always targeting the roads. He did feel relieved now that he had obtained Elrond's decision.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"But of course, Ada! I will accompany Erestor to the Golden Wood! I would love to see Arwen and my grandparents again!" Secretly Elladan applauded Erestor's decision. It would be best for the elder Elf to concentrate on himself for a while. "But you *will* keep a close eye on Glorfindel and Magolion, won't you, Ada?" When he had found Erestor's rooms empty, he had directly headed for his father's study, believing it was most likely to find the elusive advisor there. When Elrond had suggested escorting Erestor to Lothlórien, he had immediately accepted.

 

"I will try, but Glorfindel refuses to even heed *my* council. My means of protecting him are limited." Elrond's heart was burdened, knowing Glorfindel was making the worst mistake of his life. "But I will be there to pick up the pieces and hopefully, in time, Erestor can take my place and they can heal their relationship."

 

Elladan couldn't agree more.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

That evening Elrond sought out Glorfindel in his rooms, determined to try one last time to change the blond's mind. "Glorfindel?" Standing in the doorway, he was relieved to find the Elda alone. If Magolion had been there, he would have sent the dark-haired Elf away. "I need to talk to you."

 

Surprised at finding Elrond this unexpectedly in his quarters, Glorfindel rose from his chair and respectfully inclined his head in greeting. "Elrond.” It had been a long day and they had encountered vicious Orcs on today's patrol. Fighting them off had taken its toll on him and he was tired. "I gather this is about Erestor? Again?"

 

"Part of it is," said Elrond, seating himself and signaling for Glorfindel to do the same. Looking absentmindedly at the fire, he continued, "Erestor is leaving for Lothlórien tomorrow." He heard Glorfindel's sharp intake of breath, revealing the other Elf's surprise.

 

"Why?" Glorfindel stared at Elrond in bewilderment.

 

"He cannot bear watching you and Magolion." Elrond carefully met his friend's eyes. "Why are you doing this? What are you afraid of? Can't you tell me what is making you act in this way? I hardly recognize you."

 

Glorfindel nervously moistened his lips. "Erestor left me."

 

"He moved back into his rooms, but he didn't end things with you. You did."

 

"I had to do it before he did it to me," escaped Glorfindel unwanted.

 

"Is that it? Are you afraid of losing him?" Elrond moved closer to Glorfindel, searching the azure eyes. "Don't you know how much he loves you?"

 

"If he loved me he wouldn't have left my rooms in the first place!" Glorfindel defiantly stared at Elrond. "I won't allow him to hurt me ever again."

 

Elrond realized the sad truth that instant; deep down inside Glorfindel still loved Erestor with all of his heart, but the blond was afraid. Considering the Elda's past, he realized not one of Glorfindel's loved ones was still alive today. "You will have to deal with your fears in your own time. But please consider talking to Erestor before he leaves. He will be away until summer."

 

/That long?/ Glorfindel grew distressed at that news, but hid it well. "Maybe I will talk to him then."

 

Elrond rose from his chair and headed for the doorway. "You will always have a listening ear with me, my friend."

 

"There is nothing to talk about," said Glorfindel determined.

 

"I think you are wrong, Glorfindel. You need to discuss your pain and fears, and I will be waiting for you when you are ready." Elrond smiled ruefully, closed the door behind him, and headed back to his own chambers, where Lindir was waiting for him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel couldn't sleep that night, knowing Erestor would be gone for several months and found himself wandering the corridors. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him to Erestor's rooms. Standing in front of the door to the dark-haired Elf's quarters, he wondered what to do. Had Erestor locked his door or was it open? Experimentally, he pushed down the door handle and the door opened.

 

Soundlessly sneaking inside, he searched for Erestor, finding his former lover asleep in bed. The dark-haired Elf was frowning in his sleep, and growing worried, Glorfindel approached the bed. Now that he was close enough to take in details, he swallowed convulsively, seeing what Erestor was clutching in his right hand was the lock of hair he had given his lover a thousand years ago.

 

He swayed slightly, as his heart was breaking all over again, and he knelt beside the bed, taking in the raven-haired Elf's features, which should have been relaxed in sleep, but weren't. /I am so sorry, love, but we weren't happy any more. You spent the last months crying yourself to sleep because I am unable to face my fears. Keeping you close isn’t fair to you. I love you too much to cage you. I want you to be happy and I love you enough to set you free./

 

Allowing himself to briefly caress Erestor's hair, he uncovered his dagger and cut off a lock of the raven hair. Erestor wouldn't miss a single strand and it would give him a reminder of their love. Erestor was clinging to a lock of his blond hair and Glorfindel knew he would spend many nights doing the same thing, holding onto Erestor's to remind him they had been lovers once.

 

Glorfindel leaned in closer and his lips ghosted over the dark hair, gently pressing a butterfly light kiss on the mane. /Please be happy, Erestor. Find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved. I brought you only misery and tears./ His heart was heavy with guilt and regrets, when he carefully got up from the floor to walk over to the doorway. After glancing one more time at Erestor's sleeping form, he closed the door behind him, ending this very important chapter in his life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond softly closed the door behind him and drew in a deep breath, finding his beloved seated on a warm and comfortable fur in front of the fireplace, singing softly and playing the lyre. He stood still for a few moments, taking in the lovely sight, as Lindir hadn't noticed his arrival yet.

 

He had loved twice in his life. Ereinion had been his first love, strong and passionate. Celebrían, his second. She had given him three lovely children and had been a true companion for many years, until the Orcs had taken her away from him. He hadn't dared hope he would be graced with a third love in his life, but it seemed the Valar were kind to him. "Lindir?"

 

Lindir looked at Elrond in surprise, not having heard the half-Elf enter. He wanted to rise from the floor to properly greet the Lord of Imladris, but Elrond signaled for him to remain seated and he complied. Elrond was a true vision of strength, wisdom, and beauty, and his heart craved to pour those qualities into song. "My Lord?"

 

"I asked you to stop calling me that," said Elrond, shrugging out of his heavy, formal robes. After gathering several fluffy pillows, he piled them in front of the fireplace, indicating Lindir should put his lyre aside and lean back into their comfort. Lying down himself, he opened his arms and smiled when Lindir gingerly moved into them. He understood that Lindir needed time to stop looking upon him as the Master of Imladris and only think of him as his lover, and he was determined to give the minstrel all the time he needed to make that transition. "Please rest against me."

 

Lindir moved into Elrond's arms, face to face with the half-Elf. Butterflies tickled his insides when Elrond's arms folded around him, pulling him close. He rested his head on Elrond's shoulder and snuggled up to the other Elf, smiling against his lover's chest. Addressing Elrond as something other than 'My Lord' was still hard, as the words automatically slipped from his lips.

 

One of Elrond's hands found its way into the long, white hair and the half-Elf combed the long strands with his fingers. Lindir fitted perfectly in his arms and he tucked his beloved's head beneath his chin. "You feel right in my arms."

 

Blushing, Lindir felt grateful that Elrond couldn't see he had grown flushed. "I must admit to being overwhelmed, my Lo... Elrond." He stuttered nervously, and swallowed hard, wondering what the future held in store for him. He wasn't sure how fast or slow the Half-Elf wanted to take this, but he hoped they wouldn’t go *too* slowly.

 

Elrond pressed a chaste kiss on top of Lindir's hair. "Will you stay with me tonight?" Feeling Lindir shift slightly away from him, he quickly added, "I would like to hold you tonight. I have slept alone for so long that I yearn to know you close."

 

Lindir nodded against Elrond's chest. "I am honored you would ask me." Lifting his head to meet Elrond's gaze, he said, "I don’t know about you, but I am comfortable here, near the fire."

 

Elrond smiled, nodded, and tightened his hold on Lindir. "Then let us sleep here." It didn't matter whether they slept in bed or on this fur -- not as long as Lindir was in his arms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Are you ready to leave?" Elladan had finished inspecting the guards that would accompany them. There were twenty of them and he reckoned they could fight off an Orc attack, should they come across the creatures. His eyes searched his former tutor's, finding them swimming. He imagined it was hard on Erestor, leaving Imladris and, more importantly, Glorfindel. /But he has to put himself first whilst Glorfindel works out his fears./ He was relieved that Magolion hadn't appeared to gloat at his brother and he smiled reassuringly at the elder Elf. "Ready?"

 

Erestor swallowed hard, nodding once. Until now, he had hoped that Glorfindel would appear to stop him from leaving, but the blond was nowhere in sight. Biting down any heartache he felt, he kept his gaze focused on Elladan. "Yes, we can leave. There is nothing left for me here."

 

Elladan signaled for the guards to follow and he kept a close eye on his former tutor, worried now that tears were leaving the normally calm chocolate brown eyes.

 

Looking over his shoulder, Erestor hoped to catch a last look of Glorfindel, but instead he saw his brother, standing in the courtyard, giving him a triumphant smile.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel allowed his tears to flow freely, making sure he was hidden from Erestor's searching eyes. He was looking out over the courtyard from behind velvet curtains that obscured his form from the dark-haired Elf's view. His heart ached and he would have loved to run to Erestor to gather him in his arms. /We might be happy for some weeks, but then it would start all over again and I would have to listen to you crying yourself to sleep at night. I cannot do that anymore. First I need to examine my fears./

 

His gaze traveled to Magolion's face, which carried a smug expression. /And I have to stop seeing him. I cannot give in to this blind lust any longer./ Elrond was right; he needed to be alone and not be involved with Magolion. /I won't touch or kiss him ever again. I will find a way to deal with my fears, and once I know how to properly woo Erestor, I will travel to Lothlórien to reclaim him./ Now that Erestor was really leaving, Glorfindel finally found the courage to start facing his demons. He wanted nothing more than to bind himself to his dark-haired lover in time, and it was Elrond, not Magolion who should guide him.

 

/I promise you this, Erestor. I will come for you and commit to you./

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 7

 

 

Imladris

 

The knock on his door was rather unexpected, and Elrond looked up from his reports, straightened out his robes and told his visitor to enter. He inquisitively raised an eyebrow, seeing Glorfindel enter hesitantly. Studying his friend, he startled at seeing the lost and distraught expression in the azure eyes. He had hoped Erestor's departure would force Glorfindel to face his problems, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so quickly. Erestor had only left a few hours ago and he had reckoned a few weeks would pass before the Elda would truly realize his loss. But the empty expression in the sapphire eyes told him that the brutal truth had already registered with the blond. He mentally prepared himself, hoping he could deal with the emotional turmoil his friend was in.

 

Glorfindel averted his eyes and stared at the floor. "Elrond? Can I have a moment of your time?" He didn't really know what to say, but knew he had to do this *now* before he lost his courage to address this. He nervously shuffled his feet, waiting for Elrond's reply. "I really need to talk to you."

 

Glorfindel's calm and subdued demeanor made Elrond hopeful that his friend was really prepared to face his fears. "You can always talk to me, Glorfindel." He raised a hand and signaled for the blond to sit down opposite the desk. He continued to observe his long-time friend and saw the uncertainty and insecurity in the blue eyes, which lacked their usual luster. Giving the Elda the time Glorfindel so obviously needed, he leaned back in his chair and waited patiently.

 

Glorfindel cleared his throat, feeling strangely nervous now that he had made the decision to put his trust in the Peredhel. Lost for words, he watched mutely as Elrond poured them hot, herbal tea. After thanking the half-Elf, he curled his cold fingers around the cup, warming them. He couldn't remember ever feeling cold before. Staring into the swirling liquid, he wondered how to start. He appreciated the fact that Elrond was giving him the time to gather his thoughts, hoping to find some opening. In the end, he admitted, "I don’t know where to start."

 

Elrond nodded encouragingly. "Take all the time you need." It was obvious that it took a great deal of courage on Glorfindel's part to do this and he refused to rush the Elda. Sipping his tea, he felt grateful that Glorfindel had come to him and had not gone to Magolion. That would have made things even worse!

 

"I have decided to stop seeing Erestor's brother," said Glorfindel eventually, as if he had been reading Elrond's thoughts. "Getting involved with him was wrong -- it was probably the most foolish thing I have ever done, but I wasn’t thinking rationally."

 

Elrond cocked his head. "Magolion will probably not seek contact any longer."

 

That remark caused Glorfindel to frown and the Elda finally made eye contact with the Peredhel. "Why is that?"

 

Elrond knew he had to tread delicately, addressing this. "Magolion saw you as a way to hurt Erestor. There is a lot of bad blood between them, and by seducing you Magolion was doing his best to wound Erestor where it would hurt most -- in his heart. Now that Erestor is gone, Magolion might no longer be interested in you."

 

Still frowning, Glorfindel said, "Are you serious?" He recalled Lindir's warning, but had thought the minstrel had been exaggerating, trying to convince him to stay away from Magolion.

 

"I am serious. And I know 'tis the truth, because Magolion did the same thing to Lindir three thousand years ago." Seeing Glorfindel's shocked expression, he explained, hoping Lindir would forgive him for betraying the implied trust. "Magolion assumed Lindir and Erestor were lovers, but we both know they are just very good friends. Magolion however, didn’t believe that and seduced Lindir, promising him marriage. Once he had seduced Lindir, he took back his promise, delighted to have hurt them both."

 

Glorfindel swallowed hard. Why had he refused to listen when Lindir had tried to warn him? "Is this true?"

 

"Yes, 'tis." Lindir hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but the two Elves hadn't heard him knock and he had then simply opened the door. He had just been in time to catch Elrond's last sentences. "What Elrond told you is the absolute truth." Uncertain how to act in Glorfindel's presence, he remained standing near the doorway, his eyes searching the Peredhel's for answers. Did the half-Elf want Glorfindel to know they had become lovers? Or did Elrond prefer to keep it private?

 

Glorfindel had turned around on his chair so he could establish eye contact with the white-haired Elf. He had always known Lindir as a compassionate and kind soul, and although he found it hard to believe that Magolion was guilty of the things he was accused of, he also knew Lindir was no liar. The minstrel just didn't have the heart to lie or manipulate. That left him no other option than to eventually accept Elrond's words. "I honestly didn’t know."

 

Elrond caught the distressed expression in Lindir's emerald eyes and rose from behind his desk, quickly advancing on the other Elf and eventually wrapping his arms around his beloved.

 

Glorfindel's breath caught, seeing the unexpected intimacy between them and he raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Elrond?"

 

If it had been up to Elrond, the half-Elf wouldn't have confided in Glorfindel at this point, preferring the blond to remain focused on himself instead. But he didn't have a choice after embracing Lindir. "Lindir and I are in love."

 

A pleased smile surfaced on Lindir's face and he dotingly stared at the half-Elf. Had Elrond ever voiced it like that before? "I do love you for saying that," he whispered, barely audible. It meant a lot to him that Elrond had revealed this to Glorfindel, for now they would be able to act freely whenever the blond was close.

 

Elrond, touched by Lindir's words, pressed a gentle kiss on a strand of white hair that teased against his face. Their love was new and still a bit fragile, making him even more determined to do this right. Addressing Glorfindel once more, he added, "Lindir and I never realized there was a mutual attraction until... until Erestor made us face our feelings." He wasn't certain how the Elda would react to hearing his former lover's name.

 

"Erestor... Erestor managed this?" He should have known this was his beloved's doing. Glorfindel forced a weak smile onto his face.

 

"He did," admitted Lindir. "He has known the truth for millennia, but I asked him not to speak of it. He lured me into accidentally revealing the truth."

 

"Yes, that sounds a lot like our cunning advisor," said Glorfindel in a melancholy tone. Suddenly loneliness and an immense sense of loss hit him. "I miss him so much!" The words had slipped out unwanted and he now looked at them pleadingly. "I want him back. I need him!"

 

"But do you love him?" asked Lindir, feeling protective of his long-time friend. He wouldn't allow Glorfindel to hurt Erestor again. "You may want him, or need him, but do you also love him?"

 

Glorfindel managed a smile, touched, now that he realized just how much Lindir cared about his former lover. He had often taken friendships for granted, only to regret acting in that way once his loved ones had died. Several times he had wished he could turn back time so he could make up for his mistakes. "I love him from the bottom of my heart."

 

Elrond frowned. "Only days ago you told me you didn’t know if you loved him." It was important that they sorted out Glorfindel's feelings before the blond found himself in even direr straits.

 

Guiltily, Glorfindel averted, and then lowered his eyes. "I lied." Hearing Elrond's sharp intake of breath, he realized he had managed to shock his friend. "Honestly, Elrond, I am not certain of much, but I do know that I want Erestor back. I want his love back. And I want to love him in turn."

 

Lindir and Elrond exchanged looks. In the end, the half-Elf reached for a blank journal and placed it on the Elda's lap. "You have to search your soul, Glorfindel. Writing down your thoughts, needs, desires, and fears might give you an insight into the way you are thinking." He hoped Glorfindel would accept his suggestion and work seriously on sorting himself out. "Write down what vexes you. Your thoughts on Erestor, Magolion... Yourself."

 

Glorfindel's fingers caressed the journal and he opened it, staring at the blank pages. After careful consideration he nodded once. Elrond's suggestion made sense. Writing everything down might tell him how he really felt about his life. "I will do my best." Hesitantly, he raised his head and looked into Elrond's eyes, which were filled with calm understanding. "I have one request though."

 

Elrond nodded, easily guessing Glorfindel's request. "I will talk to Magolion. I want a word with him at any rate." He wanted to make sure Magolion knew he had been found out and was being watched. Hopefully that would convince the Elf to stay clear of Glorfindel and Lindir. If necessary, he would station a guard at Magolion's door to make sure the Elf obeyed. Now that Glorfindel had come to him for advice, he would guard the Elda's safety and peace of mind. And Lindir's as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"I must admit to being surprised that you revealed our love to Glorfindel," said Lindir thoughtfully, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. He had seated himself on a comfortable chair in Elrond's private chambers and was waiting for the raven-haired Elf to join him.

 

Elrond had just poured two glasses of miruvor and added several slices of cheese, bread and fruits to the tray before carrying it over to the fireplace. Placing it on the floor, he sat down cross-legged and proceeded to pull Lindir onto the floor as well. He easily steered his beloved toward the pile of pillows that had remained there after last night and he eased Lindir down, making sure his lover rested comfortably against him. Feeding him an orange wedge, he watched greedily when Lindir licked droplets of juice from his lips. "Glorfindel is one of my closest friends and I feel comfortable with him knowing the truth. However, I am not yet ready to announce our new love to my entire household."

 

"I understand that," said Lindir reassuringly, enjoying the soft sensation of Elrond's fingers teasing against his lips. The Peredhel now selected a slice of apple, pushing it slowly past his lips and teeth. Lindir munched happily, looking adoringly at Elrond. He hadn't thought it possible, but he was quickly growing accustomed to spending time with Elrond in a more relaxed manner, which made it easier for him to see Elrond as his lover and not just as the Lord of the valley. The thoughts of his own blooming happiness reminded him of the love Erestor had lost. "I am worried about Glorfindel though."

 

"I scheduled a talk with Magolion in the morning."

 

"Did he seek out Glorfindel today?" asked Lindir, worried.

 

"Not to my knowledge. One of the guards is monitoring Magolion closely and has instructions to keep him away from Glorfindel's rooms." Elrond selected some sliced peach, feeding it to Lindir. Unexpectedly, Lindir's tongue curled around one of his fingertips to lick off the excess juice. /My, he is more passionate than I thought!/ Encouraged, he leaned in closer and touched his lips to Lindir's.

 

Lindir blissfully sighed into Elrond's mouth, delighted to finally be kissed by the one he had loved from afar for so long. Relaxing into the kiss -- and Elrond's embrace -- he closed his eyes to savor the delicious sensation even more. Elrond felt good against him and tasted even better. "Oh, I love you," he whispered, his lips still partly engaged in a kiss.

 

Running his hands through the long, white locks possessively, Elrond deepened the kiss. Looking at the blissful expression in the now wide, sea-green eyes, he saw liquid sensuality in the dark pupils and it made him quaver with desire. He couldn't help imagining their first time together, picturing Lindir moving above him, claiming him. That thought was enough to make him erect.

 

Lindir noticed the flushed expression on Elrond's face and smiled. "Soon, my love. Soon."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

#I am alone -- again. But this time it feels different. This time I chose my loneliness. I could still have had Erestor at my side and in my arms, but I drove him away. I want him back. It took me some time to realize that, but that is what I want; Erestor -- heart and soul. But he is on his way to the Golden Wood so he can heal from wounds *I* inflicted.#

 

Glorfindel sighed, distressed, and placed the quill back into the holder. He was beginning to understand why Elrond had given him this journal. Looking at the words 'I drove him away,' things were already beginning to become clearer. /Why did I drive him away? Why did I act that way?/ Those were important questions, and although he wanted them answered, the prospect of facing himself worried him. Ghosts of his past lurked in the back of his mind and were ready to pop out the moment he named them. /Not yet. I cannot face them yet./ He suspected that he would need Elrond's guidance once he was ready to do so.

 

But for now he rose from behind his desk and walked over to the window. He hadn't returned to his rooms after talking with Elrond, but had headed to his office near the barracks and stables instead. He found a sense of peace here that eluded him in his own quarters now that Erestor no longer resided in them.

 

/Erestor.../ An intense longing for the dark-haired advisor overwhelmed him, and he wrapped his arms around his waist in a futile attempt to pretend it was Erestor holding him. /Elladan, please keep him safe for me until I am ready to face my beloved./ Momentarily experiencing an overwhelming sense of loss, he angrily banged his fist into the wall, cursing softly when a whipping pain traveled up his wrist. That had *not* been a smart thing to do.

 

/If Erestor were here he would shake his head and remind me that stone is harder than bones. Ai, I miss him!/ Feeling absolutely miserable, he put the journal safely into the desk's drawer -- locking it away. He didn't want anyone finding out how much he was hurting and that included Magolion. Now that he'd had time to think on this matter, he realized that Magolion had indeed played him. /If only I realized that before!/

 

Glorfindel left his office and found that his feet were carrying him toward Erestor's rooms. Following his instincts, he continued walking, hoping Magolion wasn't near, as he didn't want to accidentally run into the dark-haired Elf, who reminded him so much of his lost lover.

 

Standing in front of the door to Erestor's private chambers, he overcame any doubts he might have and experimentally pushed down the door handle, hoping Erestor hadn't locked his rooms before his departure. He was desperate enough to break in, if need be. Relieved, he found that the door opened and he quickly stepped inside, immediately closing the door behind him. He now stood in cold and dark rooms and wished Erestor were still here. The dark-haired Noldo had brought light and music to his life and now he had been thrust back into a sea of dark loneliness. He felt like an intruder momentarily, although he had been here countless times. But then Erestor had been here with him.

 

Glorfindel carefully moved toward the bed, trying not to disturb the memories of happier times that still lingered here. Looking at the luxurious four-poster bed, he recalled finding Erestor naked on it more than once, looking dotingly at him and raising his arms invitingly. But now the bed was empty and the sound of laughter was gone from these rooms.

 

Glorfindel gingerly sat down on the bed, smoothing the sheets with the palm of his hand. They had made love in this bed several times and he still heard Erestor's soft giggle when he had tickled the dark-haired Elf mercilessly. That tickling had later resulted in passionate love making, during which he had pinned Erestor to the bed, whilst his lover had eagerly welcomed him. /Much happier times and I threw them away./ But he also realized he needed this time alone to figure out why he had driven Erestor away in the first place.

 

Curling up on the bed, he pulled the covers on top of him, snuggling beneath them. He deeply inhaled Erestor's sweet scent, which always reminded him of almond cake and chocolate, and pretended the Elf was still here. Hugging a pillow close, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. /I love you, Erestor, and I want you back. Please don’t fall in love with any of Celeborn's silver-haired sentries. Please wait for me to sort this out./

 

He prayed to the Valar, hoping Erestor had enough faith in him to wait.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

 

"Lindir?" Elrond rushed back into his rooms, looking confused and worried.

 

Lindir, who had just finished dressing, looked at his beloved in surprise. Elrond had left about half an hour ago to check on Glorfindel and they weren't supposed to meet again until dinner. Seeing Elrond now surprised him and he blushed. He had spent the night in Elrond's arms and they had whispered soft words of love throughout the night, bestowing gentle kisses on each other's lips. Seeing Elrond now brought these pleasant memories back and caused this flush, which the half-Elf thought utterly adorable.

 

Elrond wanted to indulge himself and kiss Lindir breathless, but he had to focus on Glorfindel now that the Elda proved elusive. "Glorfindel isn’t in his rooms and hasn’t been seen in his office, the training grounds or the stables. I cannot find him!" Vexed, he gathered his robes close and began pacing his bedroom. "I don’t know where to look for him and I am expecting Magolion in my study in half an hour!"

 

Lindir's brow furrowed, wondering if Glorfindel had gone to Erestor's rooms instead. The Elda would feel closest to Erestor there. "Why don't I look for Glorfindel whilst you talk to Magolion? I have the suspicion that I will find Glorfindel in Erestor's rooms -- let me check on that. You need to talk to Magolion at all cost. We cannot take the risk of him seeking out Glorfindel again."

 

Elrond nodded firmly. "You offer very wise council. I am glad to have you at my side now that Erestor isn’t here." Elrond quickly covered the distance between them, pressed a passionate kiss on Lindir's soft lips and then marched out of the room again, already mentally preparing himself for the upcoming confrontation with Magolion.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir soundlessly opened the door and then stepped inside. /Ah, I was correct./ Seeing Glorfindel asleep in Erestor's bed, a sad smile surfaced on his face. /I wonder what fears and doubts are keeping him away from Erestor./ Hopefully, Elrond could help Glorfindel find out and in the meantime he would do his best to help as well.

 

An echo of loneliness had remained in Glorfindel's azure eyes and Lindir found himself reaching out, brushing back a wayward, golden lock that had slipped into Glorfindel's face during the night.

 

"E...res...to..." Glorfindel was slowly waking up, enjoying the touch bestowed onto his hair. Regaining consciousness, his eyes focused on the Elf seated on the bed. Disappointment and frustration overcame him, seeing long *white* hair, instead of the raven dark he so loved.

 

"No, it is I, Lindir," said the minstrel softly, hoping his gentle tone would bring Glorfindel some comfort. Maybe it would help if the Elda knew he wasn't alone. "I bring word from Elrond. He is worried because you weren't in your chambers."

 

"But you knew where to find me," whispered Glorfindel, resigned. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he found himself clinging to the pillow, which still carried Erestor's scent. "I hope you told Elrond not to worry."

 

"No matter what I say, he remains worried for you," said Lindir in a warm tone, "And I understand. I worry too."

 

Glorfindel looked at the minstrel from beneath golden eyelashes. "I miss him," he said, deciding to confide in Lindir, knowing the minstrel was Erestor's best friend. "I miss him so much. I didn't know that it was possible to miss someone that much!"

 

Lindir nodded once in understanding. "If my heart hadn't told me to stay with the one I love, I would have offered to accompany Erestor to Lothlórien."

 

Glorfindel saw a chance to get away from their current topic -- discussing Erestor was only worsening his heartbreak. "I must admit to being surprised. I never knew you had a romantic interest in Elrond." Seeing Lindir blush, Glorfindel smiled, knowing instinctively Elrond would love seeing the minstrel blush like that. He did look charming -- blushing.

 

Lindir coughed, trying to cover up his shyness. "I didn’t know he had an interest in me, Glorfindel. I would never have revealed my feelings for our Lord. He is far above my station and I still find it hard to believe this attraction is mutual. I am a mere minstrel. My father was a tailor and my mother a weaver. And Elrond -- he is... he is..."

 

"He is the one you love," finished Glorfindel for Lindir.

 

"Yes," whispered Lindir shyly, nodding once. "I never dared hope he would love me back."

 

Glorfindel took a moment to ponder the new relationship. "I think that Elrond and you are very well-suited. He needs someone who loves him, someone with a warm and patient character. He also loves your voice... your music. In turn, Elrond's main objective is to protect his loved ones. He will love to take care of you. If I may give you one bit advice -- let him."

 

Lindir's smile brightened. "I would love to take care of him in turn -- emotionally and physically." Lindir briefly hesitated, but then added, "And I would love for him to take care of me."

 

Glorfindel raised a hand and slowly rested it atop of Lindir's, uncertain if the gesture was welcome. But Lindir allowed it and even squeezed his hand in turn. "I *am* happy for you."

 

Lindir's smile faded, being reminded of the fact that Glorfindel was hurting inside now that Erestor had left. "Put your faith in him, Glorfindel. Erestor loves you and he won't give up on you so easily, but like you, he needs this time apart."

 

"I am afraid he will fall in love with someone else," confessed Glorfindel during a moment of utter truth, which surprised even himself. He hadn't thought he would be comfortable confiding something so intimate to Lindir. "What if one of Celeborn's Galadhrim catches his attention? What if he forgets about me? Decides I am not worth waiting for?"

 

Lindir squeezed Glorfindel's hand again -- slightly harder this time. "Erestor gave his heart to you the moment he first laid eyes on you. Trust me, I have known him for a long time and I know he doesn’t give away his love easily."

 

"But he doesn’t know that I want him back! That I went to Elrond for help! As far as he knows I am still attracted to Magolion," objected Glorfindel, fighting down his rising panic.

 

"It will take Erestor a few weeks to reach Lothlórien, but you could send a messenger after him." Lindir frowned. "But not yet, Glorfindel. You are still too much in an emotional upheaval yourself."

 

"A messenger... Yes, I could write a letter." Glorfindel's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

 

"And what would you write in that letter? Do you even know what to say?" Seeing Glorfindel's expression change, he realized the blond understood. "Wait for a few more weeks and work with Elrond on sorting out your thoughts and feelings in the meantime. Once you know what you want, you should write him that letter. But not yet. I won't allow you to hurt Erestor ever again -- even unintentionally."

 

"Your loyalty to Erestor does you credit." Glorfindel managed a weak smile, approving of Lindir's protective nature where Erestor was concerned. "He has a good friend in you -- the best."

 

Lindir's blush deepened, hearing the compliment. "I am your friend as well, Glorfindel."

 

"In that case I am blessed too."

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 8

 

 

Elrond's gaze sternly met Magolion's. The dark-haired Elf's face carried a defiant expression, which made Elrond tread carefully. He had seated himself behind his desk and his eyes narrowed, realizing this could become a long conversation. "As you are a guest in Imladris, and I her master, I limit your personal freedom to the guest wing and the gardens. I don’t want to see you near Glorfindel's quarters or the Hall of Fire. A servant will bring your meals to your rooms for the duration of your stay here, which I hope you will cut short."

 

Magolion had been expecting this and was ready to engage in a verbal fight, confident he would win. "Pray tell me, my Lord... What did I do to offend you?" Erestor might have left Imladris, but that didn't mean he was giving up on Glorfindel. Erestor was bound to return at one point and by then he wanted Glorfindel at his side, secured as his committed lover.

 

Elrond raised an elegantly curved eyebrow in obvious disdain. "Don’t play games with me, Magolion. You know exactly in what manner you offended me -- and Erestor."

 

Unwillingly, a grin surfaced on Magolion's face. He hadn't wanted to gloat, but found himself unable to stop from doing so. "Ah, so this is about my dear brother? Well, half-brother to be exact. I reckon you don’t even know your chief advisor was born out of wedlock? An honorless bastard?"

 

The cruel words made Elrond rise majestically from his chair and he glared at Magolion in clear disgust. "Even if your accusations are true, they don’t matter to me. I value and honor Erestor for who he is! His heritage has nothing to do with that! But it does tell me a lot about the origin of this hatred that you feel for him."

 

Magolion forced himself to remain seated. This conversation wasn’t going as planned! "It might not matter to you, but it does to me! You have no idea what it was like, growing up whilst being pestered and dishonored by the elders' comments about my half-brother's origin! They took it out on me, because Erestor was still too young to understand what they were saying!"

 

Elrond realized he was on to something very important and seated himself again, listening closely. Maybe he could get to the bottom of this.

 

Now that he had started opening up, Magolion found he couldn't stop. "My father died in an Orc attack, leaving my mother alone behind. I hadn’t reached my majority at that time and she did her utmost best to raise me on her own. But then..."

 

"What happened?" Elrond leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with concentration.

 

"She met someone. I never found out her lover's identity, but a few weeks later it became apparent that she was pregnant. It was a disgrace! My father had just perished and within the year she was pregnant again! When Erestor was born I instantly hated him." Magolion shook over his entire body. "He had no right to live! My mother should never have lain with another male! And I had to pay the price for her mistake! Do you have any idea what cruel comments I had to endure?"

 

"Go on," said Elrond softly, hoping to find a way to stop this insane hatred from further consuming Magolion.

 

"No, I shouldn't be telling you this!" Magolion jumped up from his chair, suddenly terrified that he was actually confiding in someone for the first time in his life.

 

"Sit down and continue," said Elrond in a firm tone that had commanded armies and it didn't fail him this time, either. Reluctantly, Magolion sat down again, staring at him with wide, shocked, eyes. "Tell me the rest as well."

 

Magolion found himself obeying for some elusive reason. "Things got worse when Erestor became older. Most of the other Elves still shunned my mother and her life had become a lonely one. But Erestor had managed to find his way into people's hearts and by the time he had reached majority he was a respected scholar. But my mother was still shunned and I still heard the whispered, spiteful remarks addressed to her person. My hatred for Erestor increased tenfold when he left to join the High-King's forces, leaving my mother behind."

 

"And so you decided to make Erestor pay for the pain he caused you," concluded Elrond.

 

"Yes! My mother died shortly after he had left. She slipped, climbing the mountainside to gather flowers and her neck snapped. I comforted myself with the thought that she died instantly and didn't suffer any pain. I left and joined Gil-galad's army as well, but a different regiment, as I never wanted to see my half-brother again."

 

"But Erestor and you did meet again."

 

"Yes, and I stole his first lover away from him, just to cause him the same amount of pain as he caused me!"

 

Elrond shook his head disapprovingly. "But it wasn't Erestor's fault that your mother found comfort in the arms of a temporary lover. She must have been hurting terribly after your father's death, and as you were still a child, you didn't have the means to help her grieve. Maybe this Elf took advantage of her vulnerability by laying with her. Maybe he promised her marriage." Elrond's eyes suddenly flared cruelly. "Didn't you do the same? Promising Lindir a bond and then leave him?"

 

A sudden and terrible comprehension burned in Magolion's eyes at hearing the damning words. "What?"

 

Elrond got to his feet, paced his study for some minutes, and then came to a standstill next to the chair Magolion was sitting on. "You have unwittingly repeated your mother's mistakes, but instead of becoming a victim, as she was, you became the perpetrator. You promised these Elves you loved them, that you would marry them, just to steal them away from Erestor." Elrond's eyes searched Magolion's. "Do you have any idea how badly you hurt them? Hurt Lindir? Remember your own pain and hurts, Magolion. You have become something you aren’t supposed to be. Your hatred and anger consume you, making you into the very thing you loathe. Do you understand that?"

 

Magolion swallowed hard. "No, you are twisting facts. None of that is true! I am merely making Erestor pay because he caused us such misery!"

 

"This might be hard for you to accept, but it was your *mother's* decision to take a lover and to become pregnant. Erestor had no say in being born into this family. He didn't have a say in getting you for his older brother." Elrond's eyes softened slightly. "You could have been his champion, his *true* older brother. My sons are only minutes apart, but Elladan -- the eldest -- has always defended Elrohir. Why couldn't you do that for your younger brother? You cannot possibly convince me that Erestor had a happy childhood if what you told me is true. He would have needed someone to protect him whilst he was a mere child."

 

Confusion was getting the better of him and Magolion quickly rose from his chair. Stepping away from Elrond, he quickly took several steps toward the doorway. Memories flared in his mind; images of Erestor crying his eyes out because the elder children had made spiteful remarks about his mother. The first few times Erestor had come running to him, but he had turned the small child away, delighting in the fact that the urchin was that miserable. Never in all those years had he considered reaching out and comforting Erestor instead. Only now did he realize that by doing so, he would have received comfort from Erestor as well!

 

Feeling trapped, he marched over to the doorway and said, "I have to leave now!" He was unable to meet Elrond's questioning gaze again and quickly opened the door. He was shocked when Elrond appeared beside him, slamming the door shut, which he had started to pull open.

 

"No, first I need your word that you won't approach Glorfindel again. You have already done enough damage -- too much damage actually -- and I won't allow you to cause more heartbreak." Elrond studied Magolion and found himself wondering about the other Elf. Like Erestor, he saw the raw potential in Magolion. If the dark-haired Elf had chosen a different path and not hatred, Magolion would have made a fine addition to his household. The Elf had the makings of a great warrior and could have taken some responsibilities off of Glorfindel's shoulders, becoming the Elda's second in command. But Magolion had chosen the path of hate and vengeance.

 

Magolion's first instinct was to rebel, but when he accidentally looked into Elrond's eyes, he saw a sincere compassion in them, which nearly floored him. "You are serious!"

 

"Yes, I am. Glorfindel needs to sort himself out and I hope Erestor's soul will heal in the Golden Wood as well. I would even go as far as to offer you some guidance, as you appear to be in great need of sound council yourself, but my loyalty lies first with Glorfindel and Erestor. Don’t defy me, Magolion, and stay away from them. If your only goal is to cause misery and discord I won't allow you to reside in Imladris much longer."

 

Elrond's words should have angered him, but instead Magolion simply nodded his head meekly. "I won't approach Glorfindel."

 

Elrond realized that promise had to do. "Then return to your quarters and don’t cause more discord in my household." Elrond opened the door and gave Magolion one last probing look. "I also suggest you do some thinking. Maybe it isn’t too late to undo the damage and to change your ways."

 

Magolion blinked in confusion and then quickly fled Elrond's study. The half-Elf had raised questions he had never wanted to answer in the first place, but now he was forced to face them after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"How did your talk with Magolion go?" Lindir had sneaked into Elrond's study after the dark-haired Elf had left. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, seeing the unreadable expression on his former nemesis' face. Walking up to his lover, he easily identified the worried expression in the troubled gray eyes. "I saw him leave and he didn’t look pleased." Which pleased Lindir in turn.

 

"We talked," said Elrond thoughtfully, but then his mood lightened, fully realizing his lover was close. Acting quickly, he pulled Lindir close until the white-haired Elf lay sprawled in his lap. After wrapping one arm around Lindir's shoulder, he raised the other’s head and traced the soft lips' outline with his thumb. "Lindir, did you know they are half-brothers and not full siblings?"

 

Lindir slowly nodded his head. "Erestor seldom talks about this, but he once mentioned that they have different fathers." Wondering if he should confide the next fact to Elrond as well, he made his decision and said, "Erestor has no idea who sired him. His mother never told him."

 

"So Magolion told the truth..." Elrond's voice trailed off in wonder.

 

Lindir teasingly licked one of Elrond's fingertips when the digit dipped into his mouth. After bestowing a kiss on the now slick fingertip, he added, "Erestor's childhood wasn't a pleasant one. Even back then, Magolion hated him."

 

"From what Magolion told me, he suffered some humiliation as well due to the fact that Erestor was born out of wedlock. Beneath his anger and desire to hurt Erestor hides an old pain. I suggested he examined his own feelings honestly, without his hatred clouding his judgment."

 

"That is exactly what Erestor suggested Magolion should do three thousand years ago... But Erestor is hesitant to believe Magolion can change his ways." Lindir ran his fingers through Elrond's dark hair and whispered, "So am I. I cannot imagine Magolion ever becoming a loving brother to Erestor."

 

Elrond pulled Lindir close enough to kiss his lips and rested one hand at the nape of his lover's neck. Kissing Lindir passionately, his other hand found its way beneath the thick and warm robes, rubbing his lover's back. Tiny tremors rocked Lindir's body and Elrond smiled knowingly. Releasing Lindir's luscious lips, he pulled back slightly and studied the feline eyes. Lindir's hardness pressed against his side and he wondered if his lover was ready to take another step tonight. "I want you."

 

Lindir swallowed nervously, and then nodded. "I feel the same way."

 

"Tonight, my love?"

 

Still nervous, Lindir nodded shakily. "I want it as well, but I am a bit... insecure."

 

"So am I. It has been millennia since I last made love to a male. I might be a bit 'rusty' myself." Elrond smiled reassuringly at his lover, but in the back of his mind he continued to worry about Magolion. Did the dark-haired Elf have the courage and the strength to face his demons and past mistakes?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

#My parents were the first ones to die during that dreadful attack. Their home was hit by a fireball and the flames consumed them. I was on my way to warn them about the impending attack, but I came too late. All I could do was stare at the flames and hope their souls would know peace in Mandos' Halls. I felt numb after hearing their screams and dropped onto my knees, sending a prayer to the Valar to guide my parents' souls to the Halls of Waiting. But then the Balrogs were upon us and I was needed to command my men.

 

We fought bravely, but there were just too many of them. Those Balrogs were our downfall. Ecthelion and I did our best to take down as many as possible with us, and when we died...#

 

Physical pain, resembling the burning of his body, which he still remembered to this very day, coursed through him. Shaking like a leaf, the quill dropped from his fingers, creating an ugly blot of ink in the center of the page. /I don't want to remember the pain.../ But wasn't that the purpose of this exercise? Now that Glorfindel was sorting out his thoughts it was inevitable that he had to face his past. Why not start now?

 

His parents... He still heard their screams in the dead of night when everyone else in the Last Homely House was sound asleep. During the time that Erestor had been his lover; the dark-haired Elf had often consoled and comforted him, holding him until the morning. And always he had pushed the memories from his mind the moment he had regained consciousness. But not this time. This time he braved them and he let the painful memories wash over him.

 

His mother had screamed the longest. But the one thing that had traumatized him most had been the exact moment when her screams had ended. A thundering silence had sliced through him and he had jumped to his feet, trying to run toward what remained of their home. Ecthelion had appeared at his side at that moment, keeping him back from entering and burning alive in the deadly flames that now reached for the neighboring dwelling.

 

"No," Ecthelion had said, "There is nothing you can do to save them. Put your trust in the Valar. They will guide their souls."

 

But his lover's words hadn't soothed him at all. He had been about to lash out at his lover, but then the Balrogs had appeared, creating havoc and chaos in his beautiful, white city of Gondolin. He hadn't had the chance to grieve their passing due to the attack, and he had thrown himself into battle with something that closely resembled a death wish. But seeing Ecthelion close and covering his beloved's back, he had realized he had to stay alive for his lover's sake. Ecthelion was all he had left and he didn't want to lose his lover as well as his parents. They had fought bravely, side by side, but then disaster had struck. The Balrogs proved too formidable as opponents, claiming Ecthelion's life and his.

 

In those dark nights when his memories haunted him, he relived his lover’s death -- as well as his own -- in every gut wrenching detail. At times he had woken in the midst of throwing up, as the pain of remembrance had become too much for him. Erestor had always been there for him, helping him to the bathroom to clean him up. Whilst he had been staring at his reflection in the mirror, his faithful lover had headed back into the bedroom to change the bed sheets and fetch him a clean nightshirt. Erestor would press a comfortingly cool washcloth against his brow, rub his back and whisper soothingly. /Did I ever tell him how much it meant to me that he supported me in those hours? No, I don't think I ever did./ He had taken Erestor's care for granted and had eventually returned to bed with Erestor, falling asleep again. /Erestor never complained./ Erestor had just assured him he loved him whenever the dark-haired Elf had taken care of him, cleaning up whatever mess he had created. /And I never said thank you. Not once./

 

Glorfindel sighed deeply, feeling distressed and guilty for the way he had treated his lover. He was ready to dive into the unpleasant shadows of his memories when a knock on the door forced him to focus on the present again. "Who is it?" He hoped it wasn't Magolion, for the Elf was the last one he wanted to face right now.

 

"'Tis I, Lindir."

 

Glorfindel chided himself; he should have known that Elrond and Lindir would continue to check on him. "You may enter." He quickly hid the journal in the desk drawer and then rose from behind the desk. Lindir, who was walking toward him, practically radiated love and warmth. He had seldom seen the minstrel this happy. Being with Elrond was healing a world of hurts inside the white-haired Elf; a pain, which Magolion had caused millennia ago. "My dear Lindir, what brings you here?"

 

Lindir smiled brilliantly. "Well, 'tis time for dinner and Elrond hopes you will join us tonight."

 

"You won't let me fret or brood," said Glorfindel in understanding.

 

"I never let Erestor give in to his darker thoughts and I will do the same for you. You are my friend, Glorfindel, and I pray the day will quickly come when the two of you will be reunited again. I want the both of you to be happy."

 

Glorfindel nodded thankfully and for one moment he considered giving Lindir a hug, but he pushed the thought away. They didn't need more complications at the moment and he wasn't sure what would be read into such an embrace.

 

But Lindir wasn't blind and read the need for comfort and closeness in Glorfindel's eyes. Taking the initiative -- which was very much unlike him -- he stepped up closer to the blond and slowly wrapped him in a warm and gentle embrace. To his surprise, Glorfindel froze at first, but then seemed to relax into the embrace. He'd held Erestor many times, soothing his friend when he was upset and he was honored that Glorfindel now let him do the same. After rubbing the Elda's back for long, silent moments, he began to pull away. When he searched out the azure eyes, he wasn't really surprised to seem them swimming with tears. "You love him and Erestor knows that. Trust him to guard your heart. He won't hurt you."

 

Glorfindel firmly nodded his head. "You speak wisely, and I need to put my trust in him." Erestor loved him -- truly loved him. He knew that. Why else would the dark-haired advisor have taken care of him on those horrible nights when dreaming about the past had made him sick -- literally? Erestor would wait for him -- he simply had to.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It took Glorfindel considerable effort to step into the crowded Hall of Fire, unwilling to face searching eyes. Lindir had assured him that Magolion wouldn't be present and he felt relieved for that, but he also knew he had to talk to Erestor's brother eventually. His gaze swept through the Hall, which was filled with talkative Elves, a warm fire in the fireplace and soft music. It should have felt comforting and reassuring, but it didn't, as he missed one very important person to share this with him.

 

"Come with me, Glorfindel." Lindir placed one hand at the small of the Elda's back and guided his charge to the main table, where Elrond and Elrohir were already awaiting them. Lindir had asked Elrond not to tell Elrohir about their new love yet, wanting to build a friendship with the younger half-Elf first and Elrond had agreed. That did mean they needed to behave during dinner.

 

Catching sight of them, Elrond rose to his feet, advanced on Glorfindel and whilst giving Lindir a doting look, he hugged Glorfindel instead. "Join us, Glorfindel, so we can finally start dinner. I am famished." He began to return to the table, but then looked over his shoulder. "Oh, Lindir, why don't you join us as well? Maybe you can play the harp or sing for us tonight." If it had been up to him he would have kissed his lover in front of everyone, getting their secret out in the open so he wouldn't have to pretend Lindir wasn't special to him, when he loved him dearly. But the minstrel had decided differently and he respected Lindir too much to force him to make their relationship public.

 

"I am honored, my Lord," replied Lindir, trying to appear impressed by the invitation. Suddenly, he felt Elrohir's probing gaze on him and he quickly averted his eyes, sitting down to Glorfindel's left. One of his fellow minstrels brought him his harp and he began to perform the song Elrond requested. Elrohir's eyes however, never left his form. /He cannot know!/ Elrond and he had been discrete! The only ones who knew were Glorfindel and Erestor. /And Magolion probably,/ supplied a voice in the back of his mind. /Maybe Magolion is now moving on from Glorfindel to Elrohir?/ He prayed to the Valar nothing of the kind had happened and he tried to ignore Elrohir's questioning eyes as best as possible.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrohir knew something had changed when his father invited Lindir to sit at their table. It was true; the minstrel had sung for them before, but not once had Elrond asked for his company during dinner. /What changed? What happened between them?/ His gaze traveled from Lindir's face to his father's and he was stunned to see delight in the sparkling gray eyes. /Oh, no, not again!/ He had seen *that* look before. Had seen it when Elladan first met Orophin. When Erestor had first laid eyes on Glorfindel. He saw it in Celeborn's eyes each time he looked at his wife. Love. It was love he was seeing in his father's eyes.

 

He wished he hadn't seen that expression, not wanting to think about Elrond being in love with someone else than his mother. But Celebrían had sailed for Valinor many years ago and he had seen how lonely his father had become during these last long years. He still recalled Celebrían's last words to his father, expressing her hope that he would find someone to love again, as she didn't want him to remain alone. "You deserve someone who loves you the way I love you," she had said, each word still alive and clear in Elrohir's mind, "Don't turn away from love when you find it, revel in it instead."

 

How could he blame his father for following her advice? He knew they had been happy. His parents had loved each other dearly and Celebrían's decision to leave for Valinor had crushed Elrond. It had taken all their joined efforts to keep the elder Half-Elf alive. And Elrond had, apparently, now found that new love in Lindir. /A most unexpected choice,/ he admitted privately. It wasn't so much the fact that Lindir was a male, but that he was a minstrel. He had always thought his father would choose a warrior. /Maybe if Glorfindel hadn't been head over heels with Erestor, Ada might have chosen him./ But his father would never interfere in an existing relationship.

 

He read the questions in Lindir's eyes just before the minstrel lowered them. /How do I handle this? And why isn't Elladan here when I need him?/ Together, they could have discussed this development, but now he had to reach a decision -- to accept this or not -- by himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel found it very taxing to act in a normal way, when certain glances were cast in his direction. Most of the Elves had seen Erestor and Elladan leave and had drawn their own -- correct -- conclusions. Sympathy, sadness and even triumph stared back at him from the depths of their eyes, and he wished he could jump up from his chair and flee the Hall, but that would make the situation even worse. He had to endure this.

 

One hand dipped into his pocket, uncovering the lock of raven hair he had secretly acquired the night before Erestor had left. Stroking the strand of hair, he slowly grew calm again, but a gaping hole remained in his heart. /What is Erestor doing? How is he handling the journey to the Golden Wood? Please, Elbereth, watch over him and keep any Orcs away from them./ Elladan was a skilled warrior and tracker and Erestor was in the best hands with the younger half-Elf, but he would have preferred to escort Erestor to Lothlórien himself. /If I hadn't caused this discord between us in the first place, he would still have been here -- at my side./ That thought filled him with sorrow and he hoped dinner would end quickly so he could retire to Erestor's rooms. He intended to spend his nights there, as Erestor's scent was heaviest in the Elf's bed.

 

/Oh, Erestor, if only I could be with you. Please take good care of yourself./

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 9

 

How was he going to survive this ordeal -- dinner? Glorfindel could only think of Erestor, who should be seated next to him, instead of being on his way to the Golden Wood.

 

Slowly, his surroundings began to fade and his memories returned unwanted, forcing him to relive his fall, his body burning up after being set on fire by the Balrog's breath, the creature's whip cruelly biting into his flesh. He was falling -- falling quickly -- and he instinctively reached for the one thing that could restore his sanity. His fingers located the cherished strand of Erestor's hair and he clung to it, recalling all those times when Erestor had whispered he loved him. /Erestor... Erestor, help me./

 

"Glorfindel?" Lindir grew worried, finding that a fine film of sweat had formed on the Elda's brow. Reacting on instinct, he sought out the blond's hand beneath the table and was touched, finding that the warrior was clinging to a strand of raven hair. "Is something amiss?"

 

Lindir's voice and touch drove away the unpleasant memories and Glorfindel shakily nodded once. "I need him."

 

Elrohir had noticed Glorfindel's distress as well, and his heart went out to his former tutor. Elladan and his father had told him what had occurred between the two elder Elves and he instinctively knew Glorfindel needed all the support he could get. Privately he vowed to help in whatever way he could.

 

Glorfindel had also caught Elrohir's understanding look and he quickly averted his eyes. He had a hard time being conceived as vulnerable, even if he were so at the moment. He was a warrior and warriors did not show weakness! But he was amongst friends -- family -- and they wouldn't judge him for feeling this way. Taking heart, he curled his fingers around Lindir's hand, squeezing gently and sending a thank you using his eyes.

 

Lindir smiled, pleased, and held Glorfindel's hand throughout dinner, offering the blond all the comfort and support he needed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magolion's head was still spinning. Was it really possible to experience one moment of complete truth that could turn his world upside down? So abruptly? So all consuming? Changing his entire life, his every thought and his perception? It was happening to him now.

 

Elrond's words continued to echo in his mind. Had he really become something he had hated all of his life? What if the Half-Elf was right? Deep down in his heart, he was beginning to realize that Elrond had seen beyond his hatred and had correctly labeled his feelings. He hated Erestor because his half brother's birth had caused him pain and misery, but he should be upset with his mother and her mysterious lover instead. Elrond had been right; it hadn't been Erestor's decision to be born into their family.

 

He unwittingly made the mistake of closing his eyes and when he did, a long lost memory surfaced. It was Erestor as an Elfling, running toward him and wrapping his tiny arms around his legs in search of comfort. The older children tended to be unfriendly and preferred not having him around and their pestering had made Erestor run -- run to his elder brother in search of protection and understanding.

 

But he had peeled the too short arms off and had pushed Erestor away, glaring at the child. "What do you think you are doing? Go, run to Nana instead, but leave me alone!" The large, dark eyes that had looked at him in disbelief had nearly made him reconsider, but he had reminded himself that Erestor was the very reason why his family was shunned by the other Elves. "I hate you!" he had spat in disgust, and had marched away, ignoring the sobs that had erupted behind him.

 

Feeling claustrophobic, he flung the door open and immediately noticed the guard, stationed in the corridor. Apparently Elrond considered him a very real threat to his household and he ran down the corridor, recalling Elrond had allowed him to visit the gardens as long as he didn't go close to Glorfindel. He had no intention of seeking out the blond warrior.

 

Listening closely, he could hear the guard follow after him, but he ignored it and fled into the gardens, finding a secluded spot behind some ancient oak trees. His breath came in gasps and only after long minutes did he manage to calm down. An intense sense of guilt overwhelmed him and he went down on his knees, folded his arms around his waist and began to sob softly.

 

/I made one mistake after another! And damn Elrond for making me aware of them! Why did he interfere?/ Upend his life? He had been content making Erestor's life miserable and now here he was, crying his eyes out like a baby! This wasn’t appropriate behavior for a warrior! But his feelings were strong and demanded a way out.

 

Rocking slowly, he shook his head, viewing his past actions. He had stolen lovers away from Erestor, had ruined Lindir's life and now he had wrecked Glorfindel's as well. It had been his way to extract revenge on his half-brother -- stealing Glorfindel away from Erestor -- but only now did he realize the full extent of the damage he had done.

 

/Damn you, Elrond! Why did you have to open my eyes?/ What was he supposed to do now? Feel miserable for the rest of his life? Or take the easy way out and pretend none of this had ever happened? Pretend that he had never realized the truth? But no, he couldn't do that. He couldn't continue his life in this hatred-driven manner.

 

He had wasted so many years, hating Erestor, hating his mother, whilst he could have held them in his arms instead. If it hadn't been for his hatred, they could have been a real family. Maybe if they had been a real family, Erestor would never have left and his mother wouldn't have been alone when she went gathering flowers that dreadful day. It was about time he accepted responsibility for his past. But how could he continue living with the knowledge that he had wronged and hurt so many in the past?

 

Nothing made sense anymore and at the same time everything fell into place. That feeling left him utterly confused and it took him long minutes to collect himself. Once he had calmed down again, he wiped away the tears that had escaped his eyes and pushed himself onto his feet again. What he needed was company -- a listening ear, someone who understood what he was going through -- but he had chased away the only one who might have understood; Erestor. He was alone now.

 

Wandering aimlessly in the gardens, he suddenly happened upon a dark-haired Elf, seated on the grass and leaning back against the trunk of a tree. The gray eyes were distant and it almost seemed like the younger Elf was asleep, but appearances were deceiving. The gray eyes fastened on him and he uneasily cleared his throat, reading worry in them. "I apologize. 'Twas not my intent to interrupt." He was about to turn and walk away, and leave the other to his musings, when a melodic voice called him back.

 

"You don't have to leave on my account."

 

"No, I should be on my way anyway." Staying might be the wrong thing to do. Now that he felt vulnerable, he wasn't sure how to act around a stranger.

 

"I could do with some company tonight."

 

Magolion drew in a deep breath and turned to face the stranger, whose voice reminded him of Elrond's. "I wouldn't make good company tonight."

 

"The same goes for me."

 

Magolion watched as the other Elf gracefully got to his feet and then walked toward him. Now that Ithil emerged from behind dark clouds, he was taken aback, seeing the resemblance this young Elf bore Elrond.

 

"My name is Elrohir. Elrond is my father. I have lived in this valley my entire life, but I don't think we have met before." Elrohir welcomed this distraction. He had been pondering tonight's revelation and was working hard to accept the fact that his father had taken a new lover.

 

Magolion had grown wary realizing he was talking to Elrond's first born. He didn't want the half-Elf to know his true identity for the other would shun him. Doubtlessly, Elrond had told his son about him and had warned Elrohir to remain alert around him. That urged him to use a false name instead. "I am called Estenion."

 

"Estenion? The nameless son?” Elrohir frowned, wondering what parents would burden their child with such a name. Seeing an unidentifiable expression appear in the green eyes, he realized his bluntness and whispered, "I am sorry. I shouldn't have phrased it like that."

 

Magolion shrugged his shoulders once. "You didn't offend me, but I should be on my way now and leave you to your own thoughts."

 

"My thoughts are dark and speak of doubt and loneliness. I miss having my brother close." Elrohir studied Estenion and wondered about the other. He could tell by the Elf's stance that he was a warrior, even though Estenion wasn't carrying any weapons. "Would you walk the gardens with me tonight? I am in need of some company."

 

Magolion found himself unable to refuse and nodded weakly. "If that is what you desire." Gingerly he walked toward the half-Elf and fell into step beside him when Elrohir lead him into the herb gardens, where a healer was harvesting the plants. He felt out of place, walking at Elrohir's side and he wondered what had made him accept the invitation in the first place. /I am lonely too. I also need company./ Glancing at Elrohir he couldn't help but wonder. "What is it that drove you out here tonight?" He knew it was a forward question, but figured Elrohir wanted to talk about the matter, why else invite him to walk the gardens tonight?

 

"Normally I would confide in my twin, but as he isn't here..." Elrohir's voice trailed off, studying his companion closely. "Do you know my father?"

 

"I met him once," said Magolion honestly, determined to do away with his habit of lying and manipulating people. "But I don't really *know* him." /But your father knows me better than I know myself!/

 

"My mother sailed for Valinor many years ago and it feels awkward, realizing he is in love with someone else now." Elrohir had the feeling he could trust his companion and took the risk of confiding his secrets in him, even though they had only just met.

 

Magolion flinched involuntarily. /Lindir. Elrond is in love with Lindir./ "And why does it feel awkward?"

 

"It feels like he is cheating on my mother," said Elrohir, lost in thought. "Although... Her last words were for him to love again, should he find someone. She set him free to love again. They were very close, my parents, and I never expected my father to fall in love again."

 

Had Magolion still been up to his old tricks, this would have been the perfect moment to make Elrohir his next victim, but his anger and hatred had dimmed and instead guilt and regret steered his actions. "Do you want to see you father happy?"

 

"Of course I do! He has been lonely for many years, but..." Elrohir looked at his companion. "Normally I would discuss this with Elladan and then we would reach a decision together."

 

"What is there to decide?" Magolion's thoughts raced back in time, recalling how sad and listless his mother had been after his father had died. He had wanted her to be happy again, but he hadn't known how to comfort her and he had made himself invisible, hoping she would find a way to deal with her grief herself. And she had found a way; she had turned to someone else who had fathered Erestor, never claiming her as his wife. /Did he promise her marriage? A bond? Like I promised Lindir?/ He could rule out that it had happened by force. His mother wouldn't have survived being raped. So the union had been wanted by both. /Who was he? Who sired Erestor?/ His mother had never told him, had always ignored his questions. /I hated the wrong person. I should be angry with Erestor's father, not Erestor himself!/

 

"Estenion?" His companion had stopped walking and was now staring into the night. Worried, Elrohir wondered if this Elf was suffering from some ailment, as he was acting oddly.

 

"What is there to decide?" said Magolion, repeating his earlier question. "If you really want your father happy, it seems to me your decision is easy. Accept the fact that your father has found someone who makes him happy."

 

Elrohir nodded his head once. "You are right, of course." He chuckled briefly and seeing his companion's questioning expression he explained, "I thought he would choose a warrior, not a minstrel."

 

Magolion felt guilty for ruining Lindir's life -- and dreams -- in the past and hoped he could still redeem himself and change his ways. "Lindir is a fine Elf, Elrohir. Your father made a good choice. Lindir will only bring him happiness."

 

Elrohir's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I never told you his name! How did you know it is Lindir I am talking about?"

 

Magolion thought quickly. "I have heard certain rumors."

 

"Oh, in that case the whole of Imladris knows!" Elrohir shook his head, considering this topic closed, now that he had decided to accept this. "And what about you? What brings you out here?" Observing his companion, he caught an alert expression in the green eyes. It was obvious Estenion was a cautious soul.

 

/Should I tell him? Confide in him? But what if he finds out my real identity and shuns me? He would know so many intimate details about me then. Can I take that risk?/ Magolion wasn't sure what to do. But when he met Elrohir's open expression, he instinctively knew that the half-Elf wouldn't betray his trust. /I just have to make sure he doesn't find out who I really am!/

 

"Estenion? You listened to what troubled me and I can do the same thing for you." Experimentally, Elrohir raised a hand and rested it on his companion's shoulder. He didn't know what it was, but he had the feeling that he had known Estenion his entire life. Like this was someone he could trust unconditionally. Looking closely, he saw much semblance with Erestor in Estenion's features and the truth about his companion was beginning to settle in. "You can tell me."

 

Magolion sighed. "I have deeply hurt my brother."

 

Elrohir's features contorted briefly. "I couldn't possibly hurt mine -- not intentionally."

 

"What I did was intentional. I wanted to hurt him."

 

Elrohir took control of the situation and steered his companion over to some trees, where they sat down. "Please continue; I am listening."

 

Magolion's fingers moved down the stem of a daffodil and he hesitantly cast a look at Elrohir. "I hated him."

 

Elrohir shivered; unable to image hating Elladan. "You used the past tense, though."

 

"Someone showed me the error of my ways," said Magolion slowly, thoughtfully. "This happened only this morning and now I find myself in turmoil."

 

Elrohir, always a compassionate soul, reached out and gathered his companion's hand in his, gently stroking the skin. "Go on." He knew he had to listen and learn more facts before he could even think of giving advice.

 

Magolion was a bit surprised -- and rather unnerved -- by the fact that Elrohir reached out that easily. He would never act in this way when dealing with a distressed stranger. "I shouldn't burden you with this."

 

"I want to help," said Elrohir softly.

 

"My mother conceived him out of wedlock and we were shunned because of it. It was hard, growing up as his older brother. I didn't live up to my responsibilities as an older brother, or as a good son to my mother. I emotionally abandoned them both. I began to hate him. It was his very existence that made the other Elves shun us. In the end, I decided to make him pay for the pain he had given me."

 

Elrohir moistened his lips, uncertain how his words would be welcomed. "You were cross with the wrong person. Your mother was the adult, as was the Elf who sired the baby. Your brother was as much a victim as you were."

 

"I know that now," said Magolion softly, "And it is hard to accept that I wronged him. A part of me wants to lash out again and continue to hurt him, but another part won’t allow that any more and expects me to change my ways."

 

"It seems to me your decision is easy too then," said Elrohir, "Change your ways and make it up to your brother. Blood is important, Estenion. Elladan and I have a very tight connection and I cannot imagine ever hating him. Maybe you should try loving your brother instead? I am sure the amount of affection that you will get in return will be reward enough."

 

"He doesn't trust me, Elrohir. He doesn't love me... And I cannot blame him." Magolion's fingertips caressed the delicate petals of a flower. "I don't know if I can ever redeem myself in his eyes."

 

"You won't know until you try," said Elrohir, thoughtfully, giving his companion an encouraging smile. "And you should really find out -- really."

 

"Maybe I should," said Magolion, sighing, but was he really prepared to face rejection should Erestor never forgive him? But Elrohir was right; he wouldn't know until he tried.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir was nervous, finding Elrond had taken steps to make their first time a romantic one. Whilst he had been enjoying a bath, his lover had used his absence to place scented candles around their bed. Elrond had also made the bed again, this time using the softest satin sheets he could find. Oil lamps cast a warm radiance over the bed and Lindir blushed, holding onto his towel in an overly modest effort to conceal his nakedness. Looking about, he wondered where Elrond was.

 

"Lindir?" Elrond appeared to his lover's left, apparently startling Lindir and that realization brought a smile to his face. "Nervous?"

 

Lindir swallowed hard. Elrond was standing in front of him in his full, naked glory. The half-Elf had undone the braids in his hair, but the knots were still in place and Lindir was suddenly overcome by the desire to give them a slight tug, just to find out how Elrond would react to that. "I am nervous," he confirmed, nodding once. His mouth went dry and he nervously moistened his lips whilst his gaze continued to drop, encountering a muscular chest and... Blushing, he averted his eyes.

 

Elrond smiled gently and approached his lover. "Still shy?" His fingers curled around the towel Lindir was clinging to and pried away the claw-like fingers. With a soft 'woosh' the towel descended onto the floor. Slipping one arm in place around the white-haired Elf's waist, Elrond cocked his head and managed to catch Lindir's somewhat elusive gaze. "I gather you have done this before."

 

"But not with you," replied Lindir shakily, losing himself in Elrond's gray eyes. The half-Elf was close and suddenly a possessive hand rubbed his buttock. Unexpectedly Elrond pulled him close and their bodies made full contact for the first time, making both of them moan in need. "I don't want to disappoint you."

 

"You couldn't possibly disappoint me, love," whispered Elrond softly, flicking the tip of his tongue teasingly against Lindir's quavering lips. Resting one hand at the column of Lindir's neck, he brought his lover in for a kiss. His lips claimed the other's, and he bestowed a gentle kiss to them, taking them slowly and sweetly. Pulling Lindir as close as possible to him, he rubbed his groin against his lover's, seeing the feline eyes widen with desire and lust.

 

Lindir felt like he was living a dream. Elrond was gentle and attentive, tracing the insides of his lips with his tongue and the caresses were causing him to grow aroused. Suddenly, the hand on his buttock began to move away, gently tracing tickling patterns along his hip and closed in on his erection, gently running delicate fingertips down his length. Moaning into Elrond's mouth, he pressed closer, wondering if he was losing his sanity, as the need to become one suddenly consumed him. "El..." Elrond didn't allow him to finish, deepening their kiss and completely possessing his lips. Lindir was growing weak in the knees and clung to Elrond for support.

 

The gray in Elrond's eyes had darkened and seemed black to him now. Lindir trembled when Elrond easily picked him up, guiding his legs around the half-Elf's waist. Lindir instinctively complied, wrapping the long limbs around Elrond. He also managed to slip one arm around his lover's neck and then allowed Elrond to carry him to the bed. Oh, this was really happening. He was about to make love to the Peredhel, whom he had always craved from a distance. Not even in his wildest dreams had he allowed himself to fantasize that this moment would ever come!

 

Seeing trust and love in Lindir's eyes, Elrond laid his lover down on the bed and then straddled him, guiding the long, graceful legs onto the mattress. "I want you."

 

"I want you too," whispered Lindir in a sensual tone, raising one hand to run its fingers through the slightly disheveled dark mane. Looking dotingly at his lover, Lindir wondered exactly what Elrond had in mind. The half-Elf was already in a position to penetrate him, but something seemed to be keeping Elrond back. "What is it?"

 

Elrond briefly shook his head, needing a moment to sort out his thoughts. He didn't want to burden Lindir with his thoughts and he moved lower, his tongue leaving a wet trail down his lover's throat. Encountering hard nipples, he licked them sensually, suckling them, and then softly blew his breath over the hard nubs of flesh. Lindir instinctively thrust against him, his lover's feline eyes filling with need. He continued to move lower until he encountered his lover's weeping member. Licking his lips, he gave Lindir an appreciative grin and then closed his lips over the head.

 

"Argh!" Lindir groaned at the unexpected stimulation and his fingers clawed at the sheets. Surrendering to his lover, he watched the bobbing head move down his length. He managed to relax the claw-like state of one hand and buried his fingers in Elrond's hair instead, urging him on. "El-- that... feels… di…vine... ai, love... aiii... El--"

 

Elrond relaxed his throat and took his lover whole, whilst rolling the testes in the palm of his hand.

 

Lindir's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when the waves of his orgasm suddenly washed through his body -- completely unexpectedly. Panting softly, he managed to elbow himself semi upright and he stared in disbelief at Elrond, who swallowed every drop. A wicked expression shone in the dark eyes and Lindir thought he would faint, seeing Elrond predatorily lick him clean. The half-Elf was purring when his sated flesh slipped from the luscious lips. "I..." Lindir tried to speak, but found his brain was momentarily unable to form coherent sentences. Instead, he lay back again and parted his legs further in invitation.

 

Elrond saw and sensed Lindir's surrender and was tempted to accept, but he wanted something else from his lover. Rolling onto his side, he wrapped one arm possessively around the minstrel's waist and pulled him close. Surprise and puzzlement shone from Lindir's eyes, as the white-haired Elf realized he wouldn't be claimed tonight.

 

"I don't understand," whispered Lindir, still feeling the aftereffects of his intense climax.

 

"You will," promised Elrond. "We have time." He chuckled, feeling Lindir's right hand searching for his erection. "Not yet, love. First I want you erect again."

 

Lindir's eyes widened impossibly. "Why?"

 

"I want you to claim me, my love," said Elrond, smiling broadly. "I want you on top."

 

Lindir involuntarily forgot to draw in his next breath. "The Lord of Imladris wants to be taken? By me?"

 

"'Tis my greatest desire," admitted Elrond, hungrily. "To be claimed by you." As Lindir was lying very close to him, he immediately noticed that his lover was growing aroused again. "And now that you have already come, you will last much longer," he added wickedly.

 

Lindir's eyes sparkled with mirth and amusement. "I never thought you preferred to be on the bottom, my Lord," he said teasingly.

 

"Not all the time," clarified Elrond, "But I want to feel you inside me." Leaning in closer, he claimed his lover's lips again, kissing him deeply. One hand easily located Lindir's organ, which was already rising to full hardness again. "And you won't disappoint me, will you?"

 

Lindir couldn't help it -- the blush seemed to become permanently attached to his face. "Elrond? I have never... never been... You know..."

 

Elrond found his lover's insecure rambling utterly adoring. "Then it will be your first time." He slipped one arm beneath Lindir's back and easily rolled his lover atop of him, parting his legs to allow Lindir to comfortably settle between them. But this wasn’t the position he had in mind for their lovemaking. However, it was a step in the right direction. Bringing up both arms behind Lindir's back, he pulled his lover close, devouring his lover's sweet lips.

 

Lindir had lost his ability to think rationally the moment Elrond had admitted his need to him and was determined not to disappoint the half-Elf. Elrond was weaving a sensual cocoon around him, keeping his thoughts concentrated on his lover's body and needs. Suddenly, one of Elrond's hands found its way back to his hard flesh and he moaned softly, realizing the half-Elf's fingers were slick with oil. Letting his lover set the stage for their passionate encounter, he found himself thrusting into the welcoming hand.

 

Elrond licked his lips with wanton need, seeing Lindir's eyes close, whilst his lover continued to thrust into his hand. "So beautiful... So strong... So willing to please." Lindir's eyes opened and Elrond delighted in seeing the dilated pupils, which had misted over with lust. "That's it, my love."

 

"How do you... want to do... this?" Lindir found it increasingly hard to form sentences and stared at Elrond in blatant need. What had the half-Elf done to him in order for him to react like this? The idea of taking Elrond had stunned him a few moments ago, and now he was burning with the desire to sheathe himself inside his lover's body.

 

Realizing Lindir was ready to proceed, Elrond released him, rolled away from him and then pushed himself onto all fours, presenting himself to his lover. "Take me." Pulling one of the pillows close, he rested his elbows on the soft material. His head followed, resting it on his arms. "Now."

 

A distant part of Lindir reminded him that he should properly prepare his lover, but then one of Elrond's hands managed to locate his erection, guiding him. Lindir moved closer, took hold of Elrond's hips and positioned himself at the entrance to his lover's body. He was completely unprepared for the pleasure that moved through him when Elrond pushed back, allowing the head of his erection to slip past the guardian muscle.

Lindir used his hold on Elrond's hips to stop the half-Elf from moving, knowing being penetrated in this way had to hurt. "Slowly," he panted, concerned for his lover's well-being.

 

Elrond, finally feeling his lover inside him, lowered himself onto his elbows again and looked at Lindir from over his shoulder. "Please..." Feeling the tip of his lover's hard flesh pierce him wasn't enough. He needed more!

 

Lindir saw the raw need in his lover's eyes and acted on it. He was long past the moment where caution could be practiced and he thrust the rest of the way in, burying himself completely.

 

"Ai!" Elrond sucked in his breath, bit into the skin of his forearm and panted shallowly as a delicious pain coursed through him. Full. He felt incredibly full, just the way he had wanted. Lindir's hands soothingly stroked his back and Elrond whimpered when Lindir nearly pulled out, only to sheathe himself again the next moment. "Yes, like that... Again... Again!" Losing himself in his own orgasmic high, Elrond held perfectly still, allowing his lover to set the pace, which became hard and fast, just the way he wanted it. "Press me down!" He was so close to reaching climax, so close to releasing his orgasm, but he still needed more.

 

Acting on instinct, Lindir rested his body on Elrond's, driving himself into the welcoming body. When Elrond collapsed beneath him, he followed his lover down, thrusting deeply.

 

Elrond looked over his shoulder at Lindir, and when his lover caught his lips in a bruising kiss, he finally found release. Muffled groans escaped into Lindir's mouth, as Elrond trembled beneath his lover's body. He knew he had driven Lindir out of his mind with lust when his lover continued to thrust, in search of release himself. Lindir's fingers suddenly intertwined with his, gripping them hard and Elrond rode out his ecstasy, relishing the fact that his lover was still sheathed inside him.

 

Lindir reached orgasm when Elrond's inner muscle contracted around him. Hoping his lover would approve, he nipped at the half-Elf's throat, drawing a single droplet of blood. His own actions stunned him, as he had never played the more dominant and aggressive role during lovemaking. Spent, he panted heavily, still pressing Elrond into the comfort of the mattress. "Aiya, that was..." Lacking the words to describe this experience, he simply tugged at one of Elrond's knotted strands of hair and giggled, nuzzling the half-Elf's neck.

 

When his sated member left the half-Elf's body, Lindir pushed himself onto his elbows, taking some of his weight off of his lover. "You like playing games in the bedroom, don't you?"

 

Elrond laughed warmly. "And I gather you are up to playing along?"

 

"I am," said Lindir, smiling dotingly. "My love, I never thought it would be like this!" He felt liberated, empowered, and more than blessed to have Elrond as his lover. Rolling onto his side, he brought Elrond with him. Spooning behind the half-Elf, he licked one of his lover's earlobes, drawing more purrs from Elrond.

 

Elrond, sated and relaxed, allowed his lover to nibble and smiled happily. Lindir was his perfect mate -- the one he had been waiting for.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 10

 

 

The next morning Lindir pressed a sweet kiss on Elrond's lips, and before the half-Elf had the chance to fully wake up, left his lover's rooms. Lindir headed for Erestor's private chambers, instinctively knowing he would find Glorfindel there. He did feel a bit guilty for leaving Glorfindel to his own devices after last night's dinner, but the prospect of making love to Elrond had made him follow the half-Elf to his rooms most eagerly.

 

Not bothering to knock, Lindir opened the door and slipped inside. On the bed was Glorfindel, tightly wrapped into Erestor's bedding. Next to him was his journal, and Lindir was momentarily overcome by curiosity, wondering what the Elda was confiding to the ever patient paper. Chiding himself for even considering peeking at the entries, Lindir headed to the windows and opened the curtains, letting the sun's warm rays enter.

 

Glorfindel stirred unhappily in bed, moaned, and pinched his eyes tightly shut. "What are you doing?" It had taken him hours to fall asleep last night and the only thing that had enabled him to slip into reverie were Erestor's favorite robes, which he was clinging to beneath the sheets. The lock of hair had proven inadequate to soothe him and he had rolled himself into his former lover's robes instead. Peeking through half closed eyelids, Glorfindel finally identified Lindir. "Why are you here?"

 

"'Tis almost time for breakfast, my friend, and Elrond expects you at the breakfast table. You cannot be late." Lindir did his best to radiate cheerfulness, knowing the last thing that Glorfindel needed was more doom and gloom.

 

Glorfindel raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright rays of the sun and studied Lindir, definitely noting a difference. "Is Elrond in an equally good mood this morn?" His suspicions were confirmed, seeing Lindir blush fiercely. He chuckled, enjoying embarrassing Lindir – which he considered payback for the rude awakening. "So Elrond finally got laid!"

 

Lindir's blush intensified tenfold. "Glorfindel!" The Elda was known for his direct manner, but this was embarrassing!

 

"I promise not to mention it ever again... But it was about time! I reckon he won't be throwing any of his temper tantrums for some time!" Reluctantly, Glorfindel disentangled himself from Erestor's robes and the sheets, instantly knowing Lindir had figured out to whom those black robes belonged. Although he couldn't blame Lindir, should the minstrel decide to tease him in turn, he hoped the white-haired Elf wouldn't. He was already in more than enough emotional pain now that he had to do without Erestor. "I still miss him," he offered as an explanation.

 

Lindir nodded once. "I understand, Glorfindel. I miss him too."

 

Glorfindel rose from the bed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to do away with any tangles that had formed during the night. Looking at the journal, he quickly collected it, carrying it under his arm. "I will join Elrond and you in a few minutes. I would like to freshen up first." However, that meant returning to his empty rooms. And although Erestor's were empty as well, more of the Elf's personality lingered here -- and this was the place where Glorfindel wanted to be.

 

Lindir read all that and more in Glorfindel's expression. "Go ahead. I doubt he will be cross with you for staying here during his absence." Lindir walked over to the doorway, opening the door. "Much of Erestor still remains here. Let it comfort you." Discreetly, he closed the door behind him, giving Glorfindel a chance to compose himself again.

 

Glorfindel appreciated Lindir's thoughtfulness and dragged himself into the bathroom, where he splashed cold water onto his face. Somehow he would survive today and all those other days to come -- without Erestor at his side. The one thing that gave him the strength to face another day was the hope that Erestor would one day forgive him and take him back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magolion knocked on the door to Elrond's study, hoping the half-Elf could spare him one moment before breakfast. His conversation with Elrohir had raised new questions, which he needed to deal with, and he hoped Elrond would guide him in these matters. His life had changed greatly since yesterday morning and he felt adrift on a sea of emotions, desperate to reach land again. "My Lord?"

 

Surprised to hear Magolion's voice, Elrond looked up from last night's reports. What was that wretched Elf doing here? Bothering him even before he'd had breakfast? He tended to be a bit grumpy on an empty stomach and all inhabitants of the Last Homely House knew that, but Magolion apparently didn't. "Enter," he called out, slightly irritated at being sought out this early in the morning.

 

Magolion hesitantly shuffled into the room and lifted his eyes to search Elrond's. "I know this isn’t the best moment to talk and I apologize for disturbing you so early, but the truth is... is that... I need your advice -- guidance." He wasn't sure if Elrond's offer to guide him yesterday had been uttered in seriousness, but he was about to find out. "I had some time to think about the things you said and... I think... I think you are...right."

 

"Right?" Elrond arched an eyebrow. Studying Magolion, he distinctly noticed the different attitude. Magolion was meeting his gaze -- although hesitantly -- and yesterday's arrogance was gone. It was quite a remarkable change in the formerly proud warrior.

 

"I let my hatred guide me when I should have fought it down. Your words showed me the truth and to be completely honest... I don't know what to do." Magolion nervously shuffled his feet. "I have never felt like this before."

 

Elrond briefly considered the odds of Magolion manipulating him, but when their eyes met, he read the truth in them. "And now you come to me for help?"

 

"You started this," said Magolion, some of his old fire showing in his tone. "You cannot turn me away after upending my life!"

 

Elrond also realized that he should finish what he had started. "Join me here after breakfast. We will talk then."

 

Magolion released a relieved sigh; for one moment he had been worried that Elrond would turn him away. "Thank you. I will be here."

 

Elrond watched Magolion step into the corridor and close the door behind him. A weak smile formed on his face. "Who knows, Erestor, maybe all is not lost and your brother can be redeemed."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Do you know the identity of Erestor's sire?" Elrond had spent the last hour talking to Magolion and was beginning to understand where the hatred was coming from. During a very crucial time in his life, Magolion's self-confidence had been crushed, and distrust and hatred had replaced it. It was time they began undoing the damage those Elves in Magolion's village had unwittingly done. It was rare for an Elven child to be born out of wedlock and Elrond began to suspect that there was more to Erestor's heritage than even Magolion suspected.

 

Magolion, seated opposite Elrond, stared at the blazing flames in the fireplace and found some measure of comfort in their elegant and ancient dance. "I honestly don’t know. I asked my mother once, but she just shook her head and told me I wasn’t supposed to know such a thing."

 

"Does Erestor know, you think?"

 

Magolion's eyes briefly narrowed and he shrugged. "My mother told Erestor that our father sired him only days before the Orcs killed him. However, I doubt Erestor continued to believe that once he grew older, hearing the rumors, but to my knowledge he wasn't told the truth either."

 

"This is highly unusual," mumbled Elrond. Children were named after their parents and they played a very important part in the Elflings' lives. To be denied such important information was unthinkable. "Please forgive me for asking this, but is your mother still alive?"

 

Magolion shivered momentarily. "She died centuries ago."

 

"So we cannot get any answers from her." He could question Erestor should his advisor return to Imladris in summer -- providing his friend still wanted to return to them. Studying Magolion, he saw the lost confusion in the other's green eyes. During their conversation he had reached the conclusion that Magolion was being sincere; the other Elf wanted to change, but didn't know how. Maybe he could gently, but firmly, steer him in the right direction. "Have you already considered the immediate future? Your plans?"

 

Magolion hesitantly met Elrond's stormy, gray eyes. "I would like to stay in Imladris a bit longer, but I also know that you prefer me to leave your valley." He stopped, wondering what Elrond's reply would be.

 

Elrond had already suspected as much. "I will allow you to stay, but you will stay clear of Glorfindel. He has issues to work out himself and I don't want you to add to his burden."

 

Magolion nervously shifted on his chair. "I made a grave mistake in taking advantage of his weakness. I should have heeded the warnings. I should have left him alone. Maybe then Erestor and Glorfindel could have worked out whatever problems they were having." He had never before felt guilty about causing his brother pain, but the guilt he felt now was slowly suffocating him. "I just wanted to hurt Erestor."

 

"But Erestor never hurt you," said Elrond, repeating the conclusion they had drawn several minutes before. "The Elves in your village did; your mother and even the unknown Elf who sired Erestor did."

 

"I know that... now," whispered Magolion in a heavy tone. He could still vividly recall the tiny arms Erestor had tried to wrap around him for comfort when the other children had hinted at his heritage and he had simply shoved his little brother away. The big, chocolate brown eyes had filled with tears, and with every added rejection they had darkened, losing their confidence in him. He hadn't felt any pain or self-loathing back then, but that had finally changed; he felt it clearly now. "Maybe I should... I should try to make... amends to Erestor? And Glorfindel?"

 

"'Tis too early for that," cautioned Elrond, but maybe in the future Magolion would get that chance. "Concentrate on getting to know yourself and once you do, you can start to love yourself. Once you have learned how to do that, you can reach out to others. But for now, you need to be on yourself, and please," Elrond leaned in closer and rested one hand on Magolion's shoulder, "Don't use anyone of the Elves here the same way you used Lindir and Glorfindel. I do believe people should be given second chances, but I pray you won't abuse the trust I now place in you."

 

Magolion nodded once. "I understand the risk you feel you are taking by allowing me to stay here, my Lord, but I can assure you that I have changed. I will never abuse someone's trust or vulnerability again." He could have done so last night with Elrohir, but his newly found conscience and compassion had stopped him. He had indeed changed. "I will bring no more dishonor to your home. It already pains me that I hurt Glorfindel."

 

Satisfied for now, Elrond nodded his head. "I will speak with you again in the morning, if that is what you desire."

 

"I am honored that you are taking the time to help me sort this out." Magolion hesitantly met Elrond's gaze. "You were the only one I could think of to go to with my thoughts."

 

"You have made the right decision," said Elrond reassuringly as he slowly rose to his feet, indicating their conversation had truly come to an end.

 

Magolion followed Elrond to the doorway and bowed his head respectfully to show the gratitude he felt toward the elder half-Elf. "I will return here in the morning then."

 

"I will be here," confirmed Elrond and he closed the door behind Magolion after the other Elf had stepped into the corridor. Once the door was closed he allowed a weak smile to surface on his face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

That evening, Magolion sought out the gardens again, hoping to find Elrohir there. He knew it was foolish to seek out the younger half-Elf's company, but when they had talked yesterday he had felt at peace again. There was a quality about Elrohir that comforted his troubled mind and the calm gray eyes were beacons in his storm, guiding him home.

 

He had already covered one forth of the gardens before making out Elrohir's form. The younger half-Elf was sitting beneath the same tree as yesterday. Why hadn't he checked here first? For one moment he considered leaving before Elrohir could notice his presence. It wasn't proper what he was doing. This was Elrond's son and once the mighty Peredhel found out that he was talking to and confiding in Elrohir, Elrond might tell him to leave after all. But something pulled him closer to Elrohir and he followed, being a slave to this strange attraction.

 

When Elrohir looked at him, Magolion wondered about the pleased expression in the other's gray eyes. Swallowing hard due to nervousness, he coughed softly. "Good evening, Elrohir."

 

"And a good evening to you, Estenion." Elrohir studied Magolion in turn. Last night he had easily guessed the troubled Elf's identity and after talking to his father at dinner, his last doubts to who Estenion really was had vanished. But he decided to play along, if Magolion felt safer this way. "I was hoping you would come back here."

 

"You were?" Magolion's eyes widened. When he had seduced Lindir, Glorfindel and all the others, he had taken advantage of their weaknesses and needs, but Elrohir didn't have any. The half-Elf's gaze was cunning and intelligent, and Elrohir radiated calm and understanding. For the first time in his troubled life, Magolion actually wanted to be with someone, to spend time with Elrohir and thusly get to know the half-Elf better. "I must admit I was hoping the same thing. I enjoyed talking to you yesterday."

 

"Sit down, Estenion." Elrohir patted the grass beside him and played with some fallen leaves, running his fingers over them. "Is your mind still troubled tonight?"

 

Magolion sat down and rested his back against the trunk of the tree, mimicking Elrohir's posture. Staring at the dark starlit sky through the holes in a blanket of leaves, he nodded slowly. "But not as badly as yesterday. I am beginning to understand myself. My motives, my fears."

 

"Did you talk to your brother?" inquired Elrohir, playing along with the game.

 

"Not yet," replied Magolion thoughtfully. "I want to sort out my thoughts first before talking to him."

 

"Would you like to talk some more about the things that trouble you?" He knew that Magolion and his father had talked in the morning and wanted to provide a listening ear now as well. The fact that he liked having the elder Elf around surprised him, considering the way Magolion had hurt Erestor in the past.

 

"Actually, I would like to listen for a change." Magolion cast a pleading look at Elrohir. "Would you tell me about your youth? What it was like to have a brother who loved you?"

 

Elrohir cocked his head and looked pensively at Magolion, knowing the other Elf probably had a very good reason to ask for such personal details. Was he willing to confide in Magolion? He searched the green eyes for a long time, saw the genuine need in them, and made his decision.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two hours later, Elrohir had told Magolion about most events from his childhood involving Elladan, his father and even Erestor. He had decided to tell anecdotes that also featured his former tutor, and although Magolion had tensed at first at hearing Erestor's name, the elder Elf had relaxed once he had gotten his tales underway. "Elladan and I frequently got each other into trouble and out of it again, nearly giving our parents gray hair in the process."

 

Magolion moistened his lips, wondering if expressing his sympathy for Elrohir was appropriate, and in the end, he took the risk. "I heard about the Lady Celebrían's fate and I feel for you. My mother perished and left me as well."

 

Elrohir was a bit surprised to hear the honest sympathy in the other's voice, but then reminded himself that his father was also under the impression that Magolion wanted to change his ways. "She left a long time ago, but she is still missed. I know that my father also still misses her and he grieved the loss for a very long time, but none of us would speak ill of him now that he is about to take a new lover. He shouldn't be alone when he has so much to give."

 

Magolion nodded slowly. "You speak wisely, Elrohir. We Elves don't do well when alone. We aren't solitary beings."

 

"And what about you?" inquired Elrohir curiously. His father had told him that Glorfindel had been Magolion's last victim and he wondered if any feelings on Magolion's part had been involved when seducing the blond.

 

"My heart is empty," whispered Magolion in sudden understanding. "I never loved any of my lovers."

 

"Your conquests?" corrected Elrohir, suddenly feeling tense.

 

Magolion nodded once. "You are right. They never were my lovers. I used them as a means to hurt my brother. I didn't love any of them."

 

"Are you going to change that? Or do you plan on continuing these ways?" Elrohir thought he already knew the answer to that one, but he wanted to hear Magolion say it. /And he needs to say it./

 

"I am changing my ways," said Magolion, steadily holding Elrohir's probing gaze. "I don't know who I am right now, but I am no longer the person I used to be. I vowed to never again abuse someone's trust or use them for my own devices."

 

"I am pleased to hear that, Estenion." Elrohir smiled warmly. It would take time for Magolion to truly make those changes, but the elder Elf had already made a promising start and the young half-Elf would do whatever he could to help.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Screams cut through the air, blood splashed onto his dirty tunic and the blazing fires that surrounded him nearly suffocated him. Releasing a tormented wail, Glorfindel startled awake, sitting upright in bed. Sweat had formed on his entire body and he shook violently. Raising scared eyes, he looked for his former lover on whom he used to depend in the past. "E... res...t-tor...?" Oh, he needed the other Elf close, but then cruel realization set in. Erestor was on his way to Lothlórien and he was alone in bed; his lover was out of reach.

 

Night was upon him and in the dark, he felt utterly alone. During the day, Elrond and Lindir had kept him company, had offered a listening ear, but now that it was night hot tears erupted from his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. Wrapping the in sweat soaked sheets around him in a futile effort to make himself feel shielded from his past, he sobbed softly. "Eres...Erestor... I... I need... I need you!" How was he going to cope with his past? His pain and suffering? He couldn't be alone at a time like this, but no one was close!

 

Shaking like a leaf, he rocked himself slowly, desperately grabbing a pillow that still carried Erestor's scent and he clung to the soft mass, imagining it was Erestor instead. "I am... am so sor...sorry..." He continued to rock himself, fighting down the contractive spasms tormenting his stomach. Normally Erestor would now gently guide him to the bathroom, sweep back his hair and push a cool, damp wash cloth against his sweaty brow. But now he had to struggle to his feet himself.

 

Taking the sheet with him, he stumbled blindly into the bathroom, where he leaned over the sink to rid himself of his last meal. The heaving continued for quite some time and he would have sold his soul to have Erestor at his side, supporting him. The mistakes he had made haunted him and made him even more determined to deal with his past and claim Erestor as his lover, once he was free of his past's burden.

 

Tremors shook his body when he reached for a glass of water to rinse his mouth. The glass nearly slipped, but he managed to stop it from sliding out of his hands and he sighed deeply, wondering how many more nightmares would seek out him out tonight. /But they will probably lessen once I really start dealing with them./

 

Glorfindel stared at the apparition in the mirror; was that really him? The usually sparkling eyes were dark and red-rimmed. His lips had turned into narrow lines, no longer showing his charming smile. His skin had taken on a ghastly white pallor and his hair nearly seemed as white as Lindir's; gone was the golden luster.

 

/What am I doing to myself?/ He needed to talk to Elrond and he needed to talk to his friend now! Dropping the sheet to the floor, he briefly lost his balance, re-found it and then headed for the doorway. He headed for Elrond's study, hoping to find the half-Elf there, as he couldn't deal with this alone any longer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir had just left the Hall of Fire when he came upon a haggard looking Glorfindel. The blond's eyes were wide and panicked and, together with the other Elf's jerky movements, they alerted Lindir that something was very wrong.

 

"Glorfindel?" He quickly covered the distance between them and, when he noticed the other Elf's intense shivering, put a protective arm around Glorfindel. He had never seen the Elda in such a state before, but he recalled Erestor mentioning the fact that Glorfindel at times slipped under the shadows of the horrors he had witnessed in Gondolin. Until now, he had thought Erestor had exaggerated Glorfindel's anguish, but now he realized the truth. "Glorfindel? My friend, what ails you?"

 

Slowly growing aware of the arm that was wrapped around him, Glorfindel's eyes briefly regained their normal awareness. "Erestor?"

 

This was the second time that Glorfindel had mistaken him for the advisor and Lindir's worries deepened. "No, 'tis I, Lindir."

 

"Lin... dir," whispered Glorfindel, repeating the name. "I need to see... Elrond."

 

Carefully, Lindir began to steer Glorfindel to Elrond's private chambers, glad he had tidied a bit before leaving. He wasn't ready yet to tell Glorfindel that Elrond and he already slept in the same bed.

 

Glorfindel let Lindir steer him into Elrond's rooms and then toward the bed. Sitting down, he lifted tear-swimming eyes and pleadingly looked at Lindir. "I don't know what to do."

 

"Tell me what happened, Glorfindel." Lindir kept his arm wrapped around his charge and encouraged Glorfindel to lean against him, hoping the Elda found comfort in the touch.

 

"I had a... a night... nightmare..." Hesitantly, he searched Lindir's eyes. Had Erestor told him?

 

Lindir nodded once, confirming Glorfindel's thoughts. "About Gondolin."

 

"A-about... about the flames... and the scr-screams..." He had never told anyone except for Erestor. Not even Elrond knew about these nightmares. But looking into Lindir's trusting eyes, he opened up. "I... I lost them, Lindir... Lost them all... My fr-friends... My pa... parents... Lover..."

 

Lindir nodded in understanding. "You loved Ecthelion."

 

Glorfindel nodded, released a deep sigh. "I watched him... die."

 

"And you relive it in your dreams."

 

"It started... when I reached my majority," revealed Glorfindel, feeling relieved now that he was finally able to talk to someone. "I didn't know... didn't remember... My parents never told me... And then the dreams started." He now leaned heavily against Lindir, absentmindedly fumbling with the fabric of his shirt. "When my memory came back to me, I thought I had gone insane. I still don't know why the Valar made me remember my first life and death. I was happy before the nightmares started."

 

Lindir soothingly stroked Glorfindel's hair. There had been a moment when he had been afraid that the blond wouldn't confide in him and push him away, like the Elda had been doing with Erestor lately. But apparently Glorfindel had decided to put his trust in him and he was determined to be there for his friend. "How bad does it get?"

 

"I relive their deaths." Glorfindel now closed his eyes, but tears still escaped from under closed eyelids. "They always leave me, Lindir. Everyone I ever loved did."

 

"And Erestor?"

 

Glorfindel drew in a deep breath. "I think I drove him away. I left him before he could leave me." Unable to meet Lindir's gaze, he stared at the floor instead. "He never stood a chance, did he?"

 

Lindir understood. "I don't think he did. But you have recognized part of the problem, Glorfindel. Now you can deal with it."

 

"How do I do that?" Eyes, filled with hope, found Lindir's green ones. "How do I stop this fear of abandonment?"

 

"Elrond is best suited to answer that one," said Lindir thoughtfully, "But maybe you need to take a leap of faith and put your trust in Erestor."

 

"But he left me, Lindir."

 

"You chased him away."

 

Glorfindel grew quiet and returned to staring at the floor. In his heart he knew Lindir was right; but how was he going to rid himself of this paralyzing fear that kept him from truly building trust in a relationship?

 

"You look like you could do with some hot tea," said Lindir, handing Glorfindel a cup of the herbal brew. Recalling that Elrond had given Glorfindel a journal to write down his fears and thoughts, he suggested Glorfindel committed his admission to the paper.

 

Glorfindel agreed, but not until later. Now that he had unburdened part of his soul, he sagged against Lindir, incredibly tired all of a sudden. "What I really want is to go back to sleep."

 

"But what about the nightmares? Won't they return?" Seeing the pleading expression in Glorfindel's eyes, Lindir relented. "I gather you would like me to stay whilst you sleep?"

 

"Would you? I cannot be alone right now." Glorfindel sought out Lindir's hand and gently squeezed it in gratitude.

 

"Go to sleep, my friend. I will watch over you." Lindir disposed of the now empty tea cup and eased Glorfindel down onto the mattress. He allowed the blond to maintain his hold on his hand, a move which practically chained him to the bed. Glorfindel needed support and Lindir wished Erestor were here, because Glorfindel really did need the advisor. "Rest now and let your sleep be peaceful and undisturbed."

 

Glorfindel's eyes were already misting over. He was immensely grateful for Lindir's support, but he still couldn't help wishing it was Erestor sitting at his side instead.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 11

 

# How do I stop myself from chasing Erestor away again? How do I commit to him? Tell him about my fears? # Glorfindel stared blankly at the sentences he had just written down into his journal. /But he already knows about my fears. He consoled me night after night when I suffered from those nightmares./ And Erestor had stood at his side, hadn't deserted him when he had vomited his pain and fearful memories. His lover had held his hand, rubbed his back, holding back the golden mane whenever those nauseating dreams had sent him into the bathroom. And yet he had chased him away. /Elrond is right; I was afraid he would leave me because of all the problems I brought into our relationship. And in order to make sure he wouldn't leave me, I drove him away so I could be the one to officially leave him. By the Valar, this actually makes sense!/

 

He had talked to Elrond throughout the day and the half-Elf had advised him to continue to write down his thoughts. Elrond and Lindir had been supportive, offering to remain close to him during the nights when the nightmares were expected to strike the hardest. But he had rejected the offer after seeing their need to be together in their eyes. So he had headed back to Erestor's rooms and had sat down at the advisor's desk to face his fears and past. The rooms still breathed Erestor's presence and he found comfort in being here.

 

Erestor... He hoped Elladan kept his lover safe. His lover... He still thought of Erestor as his lover, even though the relationship had been ended. /My past and future lover./ He *was* determined to reclaim Erestor in time.

 

/But I was always afraid, too afraid of losing him. I doubt it would have made a difference if I had fallen for someone else. I would have had these problems with whatever Elf I had chosen to be with. Erestor just had the bad fortune to be my 'victim'./

 

Erestor... Closing his eyes, he recalled the soft expression in the chocolate brown eyes of his lover, the long, smooth feel of the raven mane and the satin-like alabaster skin that would come alive beneath his touch. At least it had in the beginning, when he had done his best to be an attentive lover. Later, he had taken Erestor's love for granted, taking instead of also giving back the affection he was receiving. Things had really changed between them when Erestor had mentioned binding themselves in the name of love.

 

Putting the tip of the quill back onto the paper, he tried to capture his thoughts in writing. When Erestor had mentioned the binding ceremony for the first time, the blood in his veins had frozen. Everything had suddenly been so perfect that he had just known some misfortune would befall them. And for fear of being perfectly happy, he had told Erestor no, hoping that as long as he wasn't completely lost in bliss, life would continue to treat him gently for once. /In an odd way that makes sense as well/

 

He would never be able to forget the expression of utter misery and disappointment in Erestor's large eyes, when his love had been rejected. The light that had formerly illuminated Erestor's eyes had dimmed until it had finally died last week. For a long time Glorfindel had chosen to be completely blind to the anguish he was causing his lover. /But I do love you, Erestor. I am just afraid to lose you when I finally admit my love to you./

 

Feeling miserable, he stared at the paragraphs he had just written down. Maybe if he had put his trust in Erestor, like he should have, they would still be together now -- and happy. /Should I ever get the chance to convince Erestor to give me one last chance, I won't forsake him ever again. I will accept whatever comes our way and I will draw my strength from the fact that he loves me. He loves me... Lindir said Erestor still loves me. I have to believe that. Erestor, please, don't stop loving me. Don't fall out of love... Please!/ But he was here in Imladris and Erestor on his way to Lothlórien and he had no way to influence his lover's decisions or feelings. /I will put my faith in him. I have to./

 

Glorfindel rose from behind the desk, extinguished the candles and lay down on the bed, staring at the in darkness covered ceiling. After releasing a deep sigh and hoping the nightmares would leave him alone tonight, he rolled himself into Erestor's bedding. He clung to the pillow like his very life depended on it and hugged it tight, finding that Erestor's scent was already weakening. /What do I do when I no longer find any comfort here in his bed?/

 

And then the strangest thing happened. For one moment he swore he heard Erestor's voice and felt his lover's arms wrapping around him tightly.

 

"Glorfindel, my love…Don't you know that I am always with you -- in your heart? You are never far from my thoughts."

 

Glorfindel's eyes widened, searching the rooms for an intruder -- possibly Magolion -- but quickly realized that he was alone. And yet he inhaled Erestor's familiar scent and a strand of raven hair teased against his face. For one blissful moment Erestor was here with him. "How is this possible? Am I losing my mind?" He hoped for an answer, but none came forth and the impression of Erestor's presence faded away.

 

"Either I am losing my mind or your love possesses the power to reach out to me, regardless of the miles between us. Watch over my sleep tonight, my love. I need to sleep, to dream of you..."

 

The faintest whisper floated through the room, Glorfindel's Elven hearing barely picking it up.

 

"Go to sleep, my love. I will guard your dreams."

 

Sleep found Glorfindel smiling, clinging to his lover's words.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"I will race you to that tree!" Elladan pressed his heels into the flanks of his mare and laughed at hearing Erestor's undignified rambling. "Don't be a spoilsport!" Being on the road with Erestor was turning out to be quite different from what he had thought it would be. He had expected the elder Elf to be in a depressed mood, but instead Erestor was smiling and making teasing remarks. The moment they had left Imladris, the normally so serious advisor's personality had changed. The brooding expression had vanished and the chocolate brown eyes had come alive with joy.

 

"I won't let you beat me at this!" Erestor didn't know why he was acting in such a childish way, indulging Elladan with his foolish request, but he spurred his stallion on, easily leaving Elladan behind and taking the lead. The wind moved through his hair, ruining the braids and letting the strands dance against his back. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this free -- carefree.

 

And Elladan could see it -- literally feel it. He saw the clear expression in Erestor's eyes when the elder Elf looked at him from over his shoulder, and he clearly heard the soft giggling, which was rather uncharacteristic for his father's chief advisor. Apparently being away from his duties -- and Glorfindel -- was doing wonders. "Ai, you win!" Erestor had reached the designated tree first and was now standing up in the stirrups, smiling broadly at him. Elladan liked what he was seeing. He had never known that Erestor possessed a playful side and he welcomed it, instinctively knowing their journey to Lothlórien would be anything *but* boring!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"We will set up camp here for the night," decided Elladan, who was in command of Erestor's escort. Some of the guards spread out to stand watch, whilst others began to build a small fire and uncovered the food the cooks had packed. Elladan took care of his mare first, rubbing her sweaty body with handfuls of grass and then joined Erestor near the fire. The elder Elf had made himself as comfortable as possible, placing his bedroll next to the fire and he was now staring absentmindedly into the flames. "What are you thinking of, Erestor?" Elladan unrolled his blanket, putting it close to Erestor's and then sat down as well, joining his former tutor in reverie of the fire.

 

"Glorfindel of course, who else?" said Erestor in a faraway tone. "I was wondering what he was doing. Whether he has already completely forgotten about me. Or if Magolion already moved into his quarters. Things like that." Erestor caught the worried expression in Elladan's eyes and forced himself to smile. "Elladan, don't worry about this. You are already being the best friend I could wish for."

 

Elladan smiled weakly. "I wish I could do more."

 

"You are already doing everything you can." Erestor tentatively rested his hand on Elladan's. "I have known you from the day you were born, Elladan, and you are very dear to me. It means a lot to me that you are accompanying me to the Golden Wood when you don't have to."

 

"I just hope Ada will keep a close eye on Glorfindel," said Elladan, sighing. Changing their subject, he added, "It will take us another week to reach the Golden Wood, Erestor. Life on the road isn't that comfortable and --"

 

Erestor cut him short. "You might find this hard to believe, but I have been on the road before."

 

Elladan nodded once. "If you say so... Erestor, I never realized this before, but I don't know that much about you."

 

"There isn’t that much to know," said Erestor, smiling. "But if you have any questions I will gladly answer them." A huge yawn overwhelmed him and he gave Elladan an apologetic look.

 

"Go to sleep, Erestor. We will leave early in the morning and you should get all the rest you can."

 

"Thank you for worrying," said Erestor, grateful. He gave Elladan a wink, hoping to convince him that he was all right and then he laid down, rolling himself into the blanket. "Sleep well, Elladan."

 

"I hope I will," said the half-Elf softly. 

 

Erestor couldn't help making one more comment before drifting off into reverie. "Maybe you will dream of your silver-haired guardian. Dream of your sweet Orophin."

 

Elladan blushed, quickly looking away from Erestor and at the fire. "That is what my heart truly desires, yes." Orophin's hazel eyes -- so much like Haldir's -- appeared in his mind's eye and he sighed, longingly. /But we can never be./ His eyes suddenly widened, hoping Erestor would keep his new found knowledge to himself. /Don't let him tell Orophin that I have feelings for him!/ He was about to address his former tutor, when he saw the distant expression in the dark eyes. /And may you dream of happier times, Erestor, because you most certainly deserve someone who loves you and makes you happy./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Throughout the years, Erestor had completely forgotten how much freedom he had lost and now that he was on the road again, away from Glorfindel, the experience was overwhelming. He didn't have to be alert in his sleep, should Glorfindel suffer another nightmare and he didn't have to walk on eggshells, always concerned the Elda would misinterpret something he had said. When he unrolled his bedroll to catch some sleep, he didn't have to worry about Glorfindel turning his back toward him, or telling him no when he wanted to touch the blond. He simply became Erestor again and he realized he had missed being himself. That was a strange realization.

 

Thankfully Elladan kept him distracted by talking to him, teaching him how to read tracks and even sparring with him occasionally. After being on the road for just one week, his physical condition was already beginning to improve. The dark circles beneath his eyes were fading and a healthy blush was returning to his face.

 

His emotional state was also improving. Due to the large amount of sleep he was getting he was recovering nicely. And although he often dreamt of Glorfindel the context of those dreams had changed. Instead of being nervous and insecure around the blond, they now slept close together, his arms wrapped tightly around the Elda. Instead of waking up tired and confused, he felt energized and hopeful. /They are just dreams. I am reading way too much into them./ But Glorfindel remained present in his dreams and Erestor didn't mind, because his former lover's demeanor had changed drastically.

 

"Erestor?" Elladan, grinning, brought his mare closer to Erestor's stallion. "I didn't catch you brooding, now did I?" It had become somewhat of a game to him, catching Erestor in the act of brooding.

 

"Not exactly brooding," said Erestor honestly, giving Elladan a carefree smile. "But I was thinking about Glorfindel."

 

Elladan growled softly. The blond was still a touchy subject where he was concerned. "Let it go, Erestor. He is miles away and you need to live in the here and now."

 

"But I am doing just that," said Erestor, amused. "Dear friend, I am feeling better than I ever have."

 

Searching the chocolate brown eyes, Elladan found Erestor was speaking the truth. Changing their subject, he said, "I found a stream nearby and several guards want to bathe in it. I must confess I would also like to clean myself up. Will you be joining us?"

 

Erestor nodded once. He was amazed at the amount of sweat and dirt one could accumulate in one week. He was dying to cleanse himself as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"He is lovely..."

 

"Beautiful..."

 

"Do you think he would be interested in any of us?"

 

Surprised, Elladan continued to eavesdrop on the four guards who were swimming in the stream a few feet away from him. Quickly casting a glance at Erestor, who was rinsing his hair to his left, he realized that the advisor was completely unaware of the guards exchanging those words.

 

"Erestor still loves Glorfindel. You don't stand a chance," said one dark-haired guard.

 

"Glorfindel no longer wants to be with him. I overheard part of their conversation when I passed Erestor's quarters. Our Captain is no longer interested in him," remarked another guard, who was floating face up in the water.

 

Elladan's eyes widened. He had never known that Erestor was an object of desire to so many!

 

"Maybe our Lord's son will try to gain Master Erestor's affection?" suggested the third guard.

 

Elladan quickly averted his eyes, finding it hard to believe the guard had actually said such a thing!

 

"Maybe Elladan will make Erestor happy," commented the fourth, who had been quiet up until now. "I have seen Erestor cry more than once when he thought he was alone."

 

The other three nodded firmly. "I respect our Captain deeply, but he doesn't deserve Master Erestor," said the third guard. "It is a pity we are below Erestor's station. I would do anything to make him happy."

 

Elladan decided he had heard enough and moved closer to Erestor, who raised an eyebrow questioningly at seeing the dumbfounded expression in his gray eyes. Elladan couldn't blame him. "Turn around, your hair is a mess." He had brought his mother's comb to untangle Erestor's dark mane, having seen the knots in the hair when the advisor had dismounted.

 

Erestor smiled, turned around and allowed Elladan to work on his hair. The half-Elf proceeded remarkably gently when disentangling his mane.

 

"Erestor?" Elladan wasn't sure how to bring this up and had waited until the guards had left the water, making sure he wouldn't be overheard in turn.

 

"Yes, Elladan?" Erestor had closed his eyes, appreciating the soft ministrations to his hair and scalp. Elladan was now braiding the damp hair, making sure it wouldn't grow tangled again. He felt deeply touched that the younger half-Elf was taking care of him in this way. It was a novel experience for him. Normally he was the one called upon to tend to others.

 

"Do you know that they desire you?" Elladan cringed, hearing how blunt that sounded.

 

Erestor's eyes opened, and he looked at his friend from over one shoulder. "What did you say?"

 

"See those guards?" Elladan cocked his head in the direction he wanted to point out to Erestor and then nodded. "I overheard some things they said. They think you utterly desirable and regret that they are beneath your station. Do you have any idea how many of them give you doting looks when you aren't looking?"

 

Erestor's smile faded slightly and he turned around to fully face Elladan. "They are in love with my appearance, maybe my station as your father's chief advisor, but they don't know me at all. If they did, the infatuation would quickly dwindle."

 

"How can you say that?" Elladan frowned.

 

"They see what they want to see, Elladan. I have been told I am beautiful and some even call me exotic and desirable, but that doesn't mean they still like me once they really get to know me."

 

Elladan's frown deepened and suddenly the water felt surprisingly chilling to him. "You really have no idea, do you?" Seeing Erestor's puzzled expression, Elladan considered his former tutor. The long dark mane seemed lined with silver, as some droplets of water still clung to it, giving the impression that tiny stars were hiding between the tresses. The large eyes were remarkably warm and open, hiding nothing. It was no wonder the guards were attracted to this midnight beauty. "Glorfindel is a fool to let you go."

 

"Elladan, have you lost your mind?" The half-Elf's words made little sense to him, and come to think of it, why was Elladan looking at him in such a predatory way?

 

In the end, Elladan sighed, resigned. "Erestor, we need to leave the water, dress, and join the others if we want to find a suitable spot to make camp, as Ithil is already beginning to rise."

 

Erestor allowed Elladan to change their topic, but as he followed the half-Elf out of the water, he still wondered about 'the thing' Elladan thought he had no idea of. Just what had Elladan been trying to tell him?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was another beautiful night and Erestor had lain down on his back, his hands tucked beneath the back of his head like a pillow. Staring at the stars, he wondered about Glorfindel. Was his former lover coping with their separation? Or had Glorfindel decided to suppress the fact that they were no longer together? Maybe he wasn't giving it any second thought at all and Magolion was already warming the Elda's bed.

 

"Brooding again?" inquired Elladan, putting his bedroll next to the other Elf's. Sitting down, he prodded the fire to a greater blaze and once the flames were dancing again, he pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them. "Glorfindel?"

 

"Magolion," clarified Erestor. Elladan had proven to be a good listener and a giver of sound advice, things which he hadn't really noticed before undertaking this journey.

 

"I understand why you left, Erestor, but your timing was lousy. You gave Magolion every chance to get to Glorfindel."

 

Erestor released a tormented sigh. "Things would have become much worse if I had stayed, because Magolion delights in hurting me. Leaving was the best thing I could do." Erestor cocked his head and looked at the half-Elf. "I always wished Magolion would change his ways, that he would accept me as his brother."

 

"But I thought you *were* brothers," said Elladan confused.

 

"Half-brothers," corrected Erestor. "We have the same mother, but..." This was a touchy subject for him, but he had told Elladan he would answer his friend's questions. "I don't know my father. My mother never told me."

 

Elladan swallowed hard, sensing old pain beneath the words. "That must have presented you with a lot of problems."

 

"Yes, and first and foremost my brother's hatred." Erestor rolled onto his side, face to face with Elladan. "When I was little I always wanted to look at him as my older brother -- my protector. But he wasn't interested in playing that role. Whenever I came to him -- in tears because the other children had been making remarks about my mother and her illegitimate lover -- Magolion would turn me away. All I wanted was for him to hold me."

 

Anger was beginning to build in the pit of Elladan's stomach. "Did you ever retaliate? Lash out at him in anger?"

 

"I tried -- once -- but found I couldn't do it. I am not a vengeful person. I simply couldn't hurt him intentionally."

 

"And now he has taken Glorfindel away from you."

 

Erestor's expression was sad and filled with sorrow. "Glorfindel was no longer mine, Elladan. Magolion couldn't take him away from me because Glorfindel had already cut all ties between us."

 

"And you wish he hadn't?"

 

Erestor briefly closed his eyes. "He didn't have a choice. He had to cut all ties before I did and I had to allow him the dignity of his retreat."

 

"Would you take him back if... if he sorted himself out?" Elladan hoped his friends would get another chance at love.

 

"I cannot answer that. My heart will always belong to him, but I could no longer live like that." Erestor paused, examining his thoughts and feelings. "There is still hope, I suppose, for I love him still." Growing quiet, he rolled onto his other side, needing some privacy.

 

Elladan understood and stopped asking questions, lying down himself. He missed his father and twin, but consoled himself with the fact that they were getting closer to the Golden Wood. In only a few more days he would see Arwen and his grandparents again.

 

/Don't forget Orophin,/ reminded a tiny voice inside.

 

/Ai, Orophin, my bittersweet love. I wish our love could be./ Elladan fell asleep thinking of Orophin's hazel eyes and silver hair.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

 

Part 12

 

Erestor was actually enjoying himself, watching a flock of birds spread across the sky. Arien's rays were warm, his belly was full and Elladan made excellent company. For once, everything in his world was -- almost -- right. For one thing was missing: Glorfindel.

 

"We will arrive in Lothlórien tomorrow evening," said Elladan, pleased that they hadn't run into any Orcs or Uruk-Hai so far. He had been prepared to fight, but as he was to protect Erestor from harm, he was relieved there hadn't been any attacks.

 

"I always loved it there," admitted Erestor dreamily. "I have only visited the Golden Wood a few times, but I love the peaceful tranquility that resides there."

 

Elladan smiled. "The few times that you were there you seemed to get along particularly well with Haldir."

 

Erestor blushed weakly. "Before I met Glorfindel, I felt attracted to Haldir," he admitted in a moment of honesty. "But his heart already belongs to someone else."

 

"It does?" Elladan's curiosity was piqued now. "To whom?"

 

"I cannot tell you that," said Erestor, chuckling softly. "I cannot betray his trust."

 

Elladan snorted, displeased, but didn't push the matter. Sudden noise to their right disturbed their pleasant mood and Elladan immediately signaled for two guards to accompany him. Steering his mare to the right, he lead the guards closer to the source of the noise. The first thing he saw was a pointy hat, white hair, and a cloud of familiar smoke. "Mithrandir?"

 

The Istar turned at hearing his name and smiled broadly at seeing Elladan this close. "Well met, young Peredhel!"

 

Elladan sighed relieved. "You are the last person I expected to meet here." He steered his mare closer to Mithrandir, jumped from the saddle and submitted to one of the Wizard's squeezing hugs, which had been bestowed onto him since his earliest childhood. "'Tis good to see you again, old friend."

 

Mithrandir took pity on the half-Elf and loosened his hold slightly. "I am on my way to the Golden Wood to talk to your grandparents. Had I known you were this close I would have sought you out so we could travel together. The roads aren't safe these days."

 

Elladan's smile broadened. "Then let us travel this last stretch together, Mithrandir." He knew the Wizard well enough to understand that no Orc or Uruk-Hai could present a serious threat to the Istar. One word of power could destroy the foul creatures. "Are you on foot?"

 

"Shadowfax carried me for days and still close, but grazing and resting. I don’t wish to disturb him now."

 

"Then take my horse instead." Elladan offered to help Mithrandir into the saddle, but the Istar politely refused.

 

"Let us walk for now." Mithrandir fell into step beside Elladan, who handed his horse's reins to one of the guards, telling them to inform the rest of the escort of their newest addition. The Wizard studied Elladan, happy to find the half-Elf in such a good mood. "So what brings you to the Golden Wood, Elladan?"

 

Elladan snorted. Mithrandir was one of the few who weren't family but could tell him and his twin apart. "I am escorting Erestor to Lothlórien."

 

A deep frown appeared on Mithrandir's face. "Master Erestor, you say? I cannot remember him leaving Imladris that often."

 

Elladan's mood instantly darkened. "Glorfindel and he ended their relationship. A lot of hurt and pain was involved and Erestor hopes to find some peace in the Golden Wood, away from Glorfindel."

 

"I am most sorry to hear that," said Mithrandir, who now caught sight of the advisor, seated high on his stallion. "I felt they were well-matched."

 

"So did we. But Glorfindel is still battling his past." Elladan raised a hand in greeting and smiled warmly at Erestor. "Since we left, Erestor is doing much better. I haven't seen him laugh this much in ages."

 

Mithrandir's eyes probed Erestor's from a distance, but then he quickly buried his concern for the chief advisor. "I hope he will find the peace he needs in Lothlórien."

 

Elladan had to lower his voice as they were getting closer to Erestor and he didn't want his elder friend to overhear his words. "I doubt he needs peace, Mithrandir. He needs love and attention."

 

"Mithrandir, I am surprised to see you here." Erestor slid off the horse's back and formally greeted the Wizard, bowing respectfully. "It has been too long since we welcomed you last in Imladris. Who thought we would meet again on the way to the Golden Wood." Erestor had first met Mithrandir when the Wizard had sought out Elrond's council. He had been in Imladris for a few years, had heard many tales of the Wizard, and had always wondered what Mithrandir was really like. When they had first met, he had instantly been struck with deep respect, feeling the elder's power and wisdom. They had exchanged formal greetings, advice, but had never discussed anything personal. And that was why Erestor felt a bit lost now, having nothing to discuss.

 

Elladan recognized the odd silence and saved his old tutor. "Mithrandir will be traveling with us, as he is on his way to Lothlórien as well." He didn't feel the same amount of deep respect for the Istar as Erestor did, as he had played on Mithrandir's lap when he was a baby, pulling the gray hair -- hard! And later on, he had jumped on Mithrandir's back, making the Istar play 'horsey' with him. Mithrandir was more like a kind, playful uncle to him.

 

"But of course," said Erestor quickly. "Please join us."

 

Elladan signaled for one of the guards to share his horse with his fellow and presented the mare to Mithrandir, who climbed onto her back a bit clumsily. "You are getting old!" teased Elladan goodheartedly.

 

Mithrandir grumbled. "The insolence of youth!"

 

Elladan chuckled and mounted his horse as well. "You must tell us about your adventures, old friend. Did you encounter Balrogs? Did you slay one by any chance? If you did, the tale might shut up Glorfindel."

 

Erestor smiled weakly, hiding the pain that resided in his heart at hearing his former lover's name. Although he kept one ear trained on the conversation that was taking place between Mithrandir and Elladan, his mind remained focused on Glorfindel. So absorbed was he in his musings that he completely missed the remarkably concerned look that the Istar gave him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Erestor was staring at the flames, something he found himself doing quite often lately. After the guards had erected their temporary camp, he had put his bedroll next to it and then spent time in front of the fire, contemplating how alive the flames seemed. This behavior usually continued until Elladan joined him, addressed him and thusly distracted him. This night was no exception.

 

“Erestor? You must be hungry. Eat.” Elladan sat down beside his former mentor, exchanging a worried look with Mithrandir, who sat to the advisor’s right. Both of them had noticed the distinctly absentminded expression in Erestor’s large eyes and by looking at Mithrandir, Elladan could tell the Wizard shared his concern.

 

Erestor pulled himself away from his musings and graced Elladan with a beaming smile. “Thank you, pen-neth.” He accepted the bowl with berries, roasted meat and bread and began to eat. Growing aware of Elladan’s concerned expression he frowned and looked questioningly at the half-Elf. “Is something amiss?”

 

Elladan nodded his head once. “You seem distant.”

 

“I was thinking of Glorfindel,” admitted Erestor, momentarily forgetting that Mithrandir was also present. Had he remembered, he wouldn’t have brought up such a personal matter. “I miss him, Elladan.”

 

Mithrandir observed the advisor closely, reading longing, regret and surrender in the dark eyes. Erestor had accepted the loss, but was still trying to come to terms with it. What Erestor needed most was time – time and someone to listen to him. Mithrandir had always enjoyed the company of the Imladris’ Elves, finding them more social and more cheerful than the often solemn Galadhel. But Erestor… Erestor had always been an exception; solemn, distant, dignified and yet incredibly cunning and intelligent. The chief advisor seldom indulged in the festive activities Elrond organized for his household, and the last time they had met, had been during one of Elrond’s council meetings. The truth was that he barely knew Erestor and now that they were traveling together, his curiosity was piqued.

 

“Erestor, try not to dwell on the matter. There is nothing you can do to change it. Glorfindel will have to take the first step to reconcile,” said Elladan thoughtfully.

 

Putting down his still half-full bowl, Erestor sighed and wrapped his warm riding cloak tighter around himself. “I can smell the first snow flakes on the air.” He was in no mood to discuss Glorfindel with Elladan, knowing the half-Elf blamed the Captain for their separation.

 

Mithrandir saw his chance to add to the conversation. “Yes, the first snow will arrive shortly. I already encountered frost on my way here – I can smell it too.” The look Erestor gave him was undecipherable and he offered a smile, which he hoped was friendly and encouraging. “Pray tell me, what is your favorite season, Master Erestor?”

 

Erestor’s eyes slightly glazed over. “Autumn. I like autumn best, when the leaves turn into a blanket of myriads of browns and reds. The air still carries some echoes of summer’s warmth, but there is also the refreshing foreboding of winter.”

 

Elladan arched an eyebrow, a movement which he had learned to copy from his father perfectly, much to his twin’s amusement who usually burst out laughing seeing him do that. “Are you a poet as well, dear Erestor?”

 

Erestor chuckled, giving Elladan a warm smile. “I think I already know what your favorite season is, Elladan.”

 

“Summer, of course!” Elladan returned the grin Erestor gave him. Apparently the advisor had guessed correctly.

 

Respectfully, Erestor turned to Mithrandir. “And would you share your favorite season with us?” It was Erestor’s first attempt to step past the boundary of formal, even diplomatic conversation, which he usually limited himself to where Mithrandir was concerned.

 

Mithrandir uncovered his pipe, stuffed it with his best weed, used a small twig to light it and contently smoked it, considering his answer. “Spring.” Nodding his head, he added, “Everything comes back to life during spring.” His gaze remained trained on Erestor, realizing the advisor felt slightly awkward in his presence. But why? Changing their subject, he asked, “Do you plan to stay in the Golden Wood for a long time?”

 

“Probably until summer,” replied Erestor, burrowing deeper into his riding cloak. “Once it starts to snow we will be confined to Lothlórien. No one will venture out onto the roads in winter.” Growing aware of Elladan’s stare, he wondered what was amiss, but when he followed the direction of the half-Elf’s gaze, he realized Elladan was staring at his still half-full bowl. Elladan apparently wanted him to finish his meal. Smiling, he felt honored that Elladan worried that much about him. Picking up the bowl, he munched on the food, drawing pleased smiles from the half-Elf.

 

“Mithrandir, why are you on your way to my grandparents? Is it bad news you carry?” Elladan wasn’t sure if Mithrandir would confide in them, but he could try.

 

Mithrandir carefully considered his answer. “News reached me from Dol Guldur. Sauron is regaining much of his strength and is sending out Orcs to reestablish his dominion. Word is that they will soon be heading for Imladris and Lothlórien.”

 

Elladan’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Does my father know about this?”

 

“I sent a messenger his way, carrying a letter that will inform him of this news. And after I have talked to your grandparents, my journey will take me to Imladris. All Elves will need to work together in order to conquer this threat,” said Mithrandir, enjoying smoking his pipe and occasionally blowing the smoke into the flames, where they took on odd shapes.

 

“What about Thranduil?” said Erestor, unable to shake off the role of Elrond’s chief advisor, even though he was no longer at his Lord’s side to council him.

 

“As Mirkwood lies closest to Dol Guldur, Thranduil has already found out first hand that Sauron has woken again. He asked me to mediate a pact, in which all Elven realms will support each other. Thranduil stands alone and without the benefit of a Ring that strengthens him and his realm.”

 

“Surely Elrond and Celeborn will see the wisdom of joining forces with Thranduil.” Erestor suddenly felt guilty for not being at Elrond’s side, where he was supposed to be. Looking at Elladan, he said, “Maybe we should turn around and return to Imladris. Your father might need us.”

 

Mithrandir slowly raised a hand, indicating he didn’t agree with Erestor’s conclusion. “If you turn back now you will be cooped up by the snow that is coming our way. I advise you to continue for Lothlórien.” Seeing Erestor remained unconvinced, he added, “I am sure Elrond and Glorfindel will reached a well-balanced decision where Imladris’ safety is concerned. And maybe you can council Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel instead?”

 

“I doubt they are in need of my council,” said Erestor slowly, “But I thank you for the kind words.”

 

Elladan moved slightly closer to Erestor and rested a hand on the elder Elf’s shoulder. “There is a reason why we are traveling to Lothlórien, my friend. You aren’t ready to face Glorfindel again, and Mithrandir is right, we should continue before frost and snow catch up with us.”

 

Erestor then realized that Elladan had probably already told Mithrandir about his motives for making this journey and he grew uncomfortable, wondering if the Istar thought any less of him now that he was fleeing his former lover. He didn’t know why it was important to him that he knew what Mithrandir thought of him, but for some reason it was. “I… Glorfindel and I…”

 

Mithrandir gave Erestor a look filled with understanding and compassion. “You need not explain yourself to me. Your affairs are private and don’t concern me.” He was a bit startled to see the rejected expression in the chocolate brown eyes and suddenly realized the truth. Erestor had wanted to confide in him, but he had said the wrong thing in order to reassure Erestor. “But if you wish to talk to me, you will find a listening ear.” Mithrandir was relieved to see the dark-haired advisor relax again and he privately chided himself for his mistake in judgment. “I have lost lovers before, my friend. I do know what you are going through.”

 

“I thank you for your concern, Mithrandir,” said Erestor in a warm tone. For some reason, which he couldn’t label, it meant a lot to him that Mithrandir had made that offer.

 

Sensing the awkward mood that had descended over them, Elladan yawned demonstratively. “We should sleep for some hours or we won’t be rested when we finally reach the Golden Wood.” He lay down, pulled his blanket in place and smiled at Erestor, who was making himself comfortable on his bedroll. Mithrandir however, remained sitting upright, smoking his pipe. Whilst the two Elves surrendered to sleepy reverie, Mithrandir pondered everything he had just learned, his gaze never leaving Erestor’s sleeping form.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next day found them close to the Golden Wood and Elladan reckoned the first sentries had probably already spotted them. It was only a question of time as to when the Galadhel would appear to greet them. Now that they were relatively safe, he relaxed and turned to Erestor, who had taken to riding at this side. The advisor was remarkably silent today. /He is probably thinking of Glorfindel again./ Normally he would try to distract the elder Elf, but now he needed to scout ahead and locate some of the sentries. Looking to his other side, he found Mithrandir, comfortably seated on Shadowfax. The horse had unexpectedly appeared and had carried Mithrandir for the last hours. Yes, this would work. “Mithrandir? Erestor? I need to scout ahead. Please stay close to the escort and don’t stray from the path.”

 

Mithrandir gave Elladan an amused smile, nodded, and then looked at Erestor. The raven-haired Elf’s expression was distant and unfocused. It looked like Erestor hadn’t heard Elladan at all. “Go ahead, young Peredhel. I will look after our friend.”

 

Elladan nodded, expressing his thanks with his eyes and then pressed his heels into the flanks of his horse, taking five guards with him. He hoped Mithrandir could distract Erestor until the Galadhel’s appearance demanded Erestor’s attention.

 

Erestor grew uncomfortable, suddenly finding himself alone with the fabled Istar and was desperately trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence between them.

 

“Shadowfax tells me that there are several sentries up in the trees. It won’t be long before we are properly welcomed.” Mithrandir hoped that remark would pique Erestor’s interest.

 

“He tells you?” Erestor pushed all disturbing thoughts from his mind and frowned at the Wizard.

 

“Yes, he talks to me,” said Mithrandir, pointing at his head with one finger, “In here.”

 

“I have heard of Elves who could converse with animals, but I have never been able to do it myself.” Legolas, the only son of King Thranduil, was one of the Elves who had mastered that rare skill and Erestor had sometimes felt envious, wishing he were capable of speaking with animals as well.

 

“Every Elf can do it,” said Mithrandir thoughtfully, realizing he had found something that would keep Erestor from brooding. “I can teach you, if you would like.”

 

Erestor found himself enthusiastically nodding his head. “I would love to learn!”

 

Mithrandir smiled. “I will teach you then.” He was about to give Erestor his first lesson when suddenly one of the Galadhel appeared on the path, bowing his head in greeting. “Ah, Haldir, I should have known they would send you to greet us,” said the Wizard cheerfully.

 

Haldir’s gaze first met Mithrandir’s, but then sought out Erestor. The Galadhel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, instinctively realizing something was amiss with the chief advisor. “Yes, the Lord and Lady sent me to welcome you to the Golden Wood and to guide you to their talan. They are eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

 

“Lead on then,” said Mithrandir cheerfully, signaling for Erestor and their escort to follow the Captain, who still walked several feet in front of the group. Mithrandir leaned in a bit closer and whispered to Erestor. “I will teach you after we are comfortably settled down, my friend. I am sure there are moments between meetings where we can sneak off and disappear for some time.” Seeing Erestor’s shocked expression, he chuckled softly. Erestor would get used to his behavior, which could be a bit rebellious at times, and maybe being a bit of a rebel was just what the advisor needed to be at this point in his life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Halt!”

 

Elladan had expected for one of the sentries to stop him, but was surprised to happen on this particular Elf. His heart sped up, beating faster and more passionately, as the silver-haired Elf lowered himself from one of the trees. Elladan’s heart thundered, seeing with how much grace the agile body moved. The large, hazel eyes were clear and focused on him, causing him to break out in a cold sweat of nervousness. Orophin’s long, silver hair reached his hips and danced with the air when a gentle breeze toyed with it. In Elladan’s eyes, the other Elf was perfect and he desired Orophin with all of his heart – but knew he couldn’t have him.

 

“I bring greetings from my father, Orophin, and I am here to speak with my grandparents and sister.” /And to see you, my heart./ But he could never say those words aloud. It wasn’t that he expected Elrond to tell him no, as his father had always told me to accept love – no matter in what form it came to him. But there were more practical problems. Orophin was a sentry of the Golden Wood and would never exchange this magic place for Imladris. It was best not to challenge his heart and to simply endure the pain instead.

 

“Elladan, you are most welcome here,” said Orophin calmly. The five of them had become friends when they had been children. As there had been few other Elflings around, Elrond and Celebrían had often visited the Golden Wood where the twins had found playmates in the three brothers. Later, Arwen had also joined them, but the bond between the five of them had already been firmly in place and Arwen had never really become a part of that. Seeing Elladan now, he smiled, proud to be one of the few that could actually tell the twins apart. “Celeborn already told me that you were on your way to see your grandparents and I was sent here to guide you.”

 

Recalling he had brought guards with him, Elladan looked over his shoulder and told them to return to the main party. Although he was nervous about being alone with Orophin, his desire to spend time with the silver-haired sentry won in the end. The guards turned around and steered their horses in the direction they came from, leaving Elladan and Orophin alone.

 

Elladan slid off his horse’s back and stood indecisively. Orophin solved the dilemma for him and Elladan’s breath involuntarily caught as Orophin’s strong arms wrapped around him in a welcoming hug.

 

“’Tis good to see you again, Elladan. ‘It has been too long since we talked.” Orophin released his friend and smiled warmly. Although Elrohir made pleasant company and was a good friend as well, he had always been drawn more to Elladan. Elladan seemed a bit more energetic, mischievous and he loved the wicked streak the half-Elf at times demonstrated. “Arwen will be most pleased to see you again.”

 

But all Elladan could think of was Orophin – how good the sentry had felt against him and he wished that the embrace had never ended. “I have missed her too,” he said, realizing he was supposed to react. “But I am also curious to find out how you and your brothers fare.” Erestor’s remark – that Haldir’s heart was already taken – returned to him and he wondered if Orophin knew who held Haldir’s heart prisoner. Maybe he would find out during his stay here.

 

“Rúmil is leading the border patrol and won’t return for a few more days. Haldir was sent to welcome the rest of your party.” Orophin fell into step beside Elladan when they began to walk toward the heart of Lothlórien where the Lord and Lady were already awaiting their guests. “I saw you had scouted ahead and decided to welcome you personally.”

 

The smile that Orophin gave him broke Elladan’s heart all over again. He had stopped counting the times that he had suffered heartbreak over the Galadhel. “I bring Erestor and Mithrandir with me,” he said, deciding to move to safer grounds instead of discussing personal matters. “We met Mithrandir on the road and he bears distressing news from Dol Guldur. It appears Sauron has woken again.”

 

“May the Valar protect us from his evil influence,” whispered Orophin softly. His eyes sought out Elladan’s with a question in them. “And Master Erestor? Did Lord Elrond send him here on a mission of diplomacy?”

 

“No.” Elladan briefly hesitated, but then confided in Orophin, knowing how quickly rumors spread through the Elven realms. “He has come here to rest, to find some peace now that Glorfindel is no longer his lover.”

 

Orophin halted in his tracks, his eyes widened and he stared at Elladan in disbelief. “What did you say?”

 

“They ended their relationship.” Elladan sighed dramatically. “You see, Glorfindel still carries the burden of his past with him and he never dealt with it.”

 

“I feel deeply for Erestor,” said Orophin softly. “I always hoped he had found true love with Glorfindel.” After giving Elladan a probing look, he added, “Erestor once pursued Haldir, did you know that?”

 

“Before he met Glorfindel,” replied Elladan, nodding once. “Erestor told me about the attraction he felt toward Haldir.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “He also told me that Haldir’s heart is already taken.”

 

“It is,” said Orophin, deciding against revealing any more personal information. “Haldir asked us not to reveal the name of the one he loves as the matter is… delicate at best.”

 

“Just tell me he isn’t in love with grandfather…” Elladan cringed slightly. “Celeborn is happily married.”

 

Orophin chuckled softly. “Rest assured, ‘tis not your grandfather who captured Haldir’s heart, but ask me no more. I am bound to keep quiet.”

 

Now Elladan’s curiosity was growing even more intense. /Not Celeborn… but who can it be? Not Erestor either… Argh, there are too many candidates!/ Elladan suddenly swallowed hard. /I hope ‘tis not me…/

 

Part 13

 

 

Galadriel smiled warmly as Celeborn embraced his grandson, welcoming him to their home. Arwen came running toward them and first bestowed a quick embrace on Erestor, before moving on to Elladan after Celeborn had released him. “Oh, Elladan, I am so glad to see you!” Arwen hugged her brother tightly.

 

“And I am glad to see you, Arwen,” said Elladan in a doting tone, studying her in turn. She looked radiant and happy. Ever since Celebrían had sailed for Valinor, Arwen had found great comfort here, finding a listening ear with Galadriel. Her grandmother understood her loss best and had taken on the role of a surrogate mother to Arwen. For that, he felt grateful. Elladan brushed a single dark lock of hair behind Arwen’s ear and released a contented sigh. “I am so happy to be here.”

 

Galadriel, taking on the role of hostess, guided her family over to a group of chairs, where they sat down. She left her husband to play host to Mithrandir and Erestor.

 

Celeborn was more than delighted to guide his guests to their talan, already exchanging information on the Dark Lord with Mithrandir. “The news you bring comes as no surprise, but is still distressing.” He guided Mithrandir inside, having assigned most charming quarters to their honored guest. “And we will discuss this matter in depth after dinner, which I hope you will grace with your presence?” He expectantly looked at the ancient Wizard.

 

Mithrandir, realizing Erestor felt out of place, rested a hand on the advisor’s shoulder and leaned heavily against him, giving Erestor the impression that he needed the support. “We will be there, old friend.”

 

Understanding appeared in Celeborn’s eyes and he turned to Erestor. “I hope you don’t mind sharing these quarters with Mithrandir. I would have preferred to assign you separate guest quarters, but an autumn storm uprooted several mallorn trees and we are short of lodgings at the moment.”

 

“I don’t mind at all,” said Erestor politely, but privately he had hoped for some much needed privacy.

 

“There are two bedrooms,” said Celeborn, “But you will have to share the bathroom.”

 

“’Tis no problem,” Mithrandir assured, “There is less luxury on the road.”

 

Erestor nodded as well. “We will manage.”

 

Celeborn -- relieved that this arrangement wasn’t causing any problems -- nodded once, and then turned to leave. “I will send one of my sentries to take you to the dining area. Please rest in the meantime. Maybe you will also enjoy a refreshing shower.” He smiled one more time and then closed the door behind him, leaving the advisor and Wizard to themselves.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir sensed Erestor’s discomfort and removed his hand from the Elf’s shoulder. “Why don’t you freshen up first?” He demonstratively sat down, uncovering his pipe. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

 

Erestor had always secretly enjoyed the sweet scent of Mithrandir’s pipe weed and assured the Wizard. “Feel free to smoke, Mithrandir.” After respectfully inclining his head, he quickly disappeared into the bathroom, needing a moment to sort out his thoughts.

 

Mithrandir did the same thing, pondering his temporary roommate’s behavior and realizing he needed more information on Glorfindel’s issues if he really wanted to help Erestor sort himself out. Well, he had time, as he was to stay here for several days.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor still felt out of place during dinner. Galadriel was immersed in conversation with Arwen and Elladan, whilst Celeborn was busy discussing the latest news on Dol Guldur with Mithrandir. Erestor was trying to pay attention to their conversation, but it was clear that it was between the two of them and that no action on his part was required. For one moment he wished Haldir had stayed with them, but the sentry had returned to his post, deserting him.

 

It wouldn’t be fair to Haldir to take up the silver-haired Elf’s time just because he felt left out. But for centuries he had tried to woo Haldir, who at one time had told him that his heart was already taken. More discussion had followed and they had emerged as friends. Ever since then, Erestor had tried to be a good friend, but every now and then he felt regret, knowing he was truly alone now that Glorfindel no longer wanted him – and Haldir had never wanted him in the first place. Was he really so undesirable?

 

Elladan caught Erestor’s darkening mood and wished he had been assigned a seat closer to the advisor. But he was seated on the other end of the table and it would be hard to start a conversation from across this distance. Erestor was sitting on the end with Mithrandir next to him. Elladan decided he had to draw the Wizard’s attention and stretched, managing to tap the Istar’s shin with the tip of his boot. Mithrandir looked at him in surprise and Elladan inclined his head in Erestor’s direction.

 

Catching on, Mithrandir apologized to Celeborn and then turned to the dark-haired advisor. “You don’t seem very talkative tonight.”

 

“I never am,” said Erestor honestly, a slight smile escaping from his lips. “I prefer to listen and observe.”

 

“That is what makes you a good advisor,” said Mithrandir, nodding his head. “But you seem distracted tonight. I expected you to take part in tonight’s discussions, as the rise of Sauron also concerns you and Imladris.”

 

“There is little I can do to aid Elrond, being stuck in the Golden Wood.” Regret and a trace of guilt sounded in Erestor’s voice. “I should never have left Imladris in the first place.” Feeling miserable for unwillingly deserting Elrond when the half-Elf probably needed his council, he slowly rose to his feet. “Please excuse me, but the journey greatly tired me and I need to rest.”

 

Galadriel gave Erestor a knowing look. Little was hidden from her and she felt sympathy for Erestor, who was so obviously struggling with his feelings and needs. “Then retire to your rooms, Erestor. We will see you in the morning, won’t we? It has been long since we last had the pleasure of your company.”

 

“I will be there,” confirmed Erestor, grateful that she was trying to make him feel welcome here. “If you will excuse me now…” He pushed back his chair and walked away from the dining table, heading for his talan.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I worry for him,” said Galadriel in a soft tone. “I have seen his pain and longing and they go deep.”

 

Elladan sighed deeply. “I hoped that bringing him here would distract him.”

 

Arwen squeezed her brother’s hand reassuringly. “He needs time, Elladan. You cannot rush this. The heart heals at its own pace.”

 

Celeborn exchanged a look with Mithrandir. “I must admit to being curious, my old friend. Why did you request to be assigned the same quarters as Erestor?”

 

“I have my reasons,” said Mithrandir, quizzically. “Did you comply with all my requests?”

 

“The roof in Erestor’s room leaks, as you requested.” Celeborn was still puzzled by Mithrandir’s peculiar requests. When it had also begun to rain one hour ago, he had realized that Erestor’s bed would be dripping wet within seconds. Just what did Mithrandir hope to accomplish with his actions?

 

“You requested ‘what’?” Elladan’s eyes widened with concern. “But…”

 

Mithrandir reached over the table and placed his big hand on Elladan’s. “Trust me, young Peredhel. I have my reasons for doing so.”

 

Elladan looked at his grandparents, hoping they would support him in his quest for answers, but Galadriel slowly shook her head, letting him know not to pursue this and to trust in Mithrandir instead. “I will let this go, but… Erestor is vulnerable right now. You shouldn’t be playing games with him.”

 

“Trust me, Elladan. I only have his best interest in mind.” Mithrandir smiled warmly at the young half-Elf. “Erestor is most fortunate to have someone like you to watch out for him.”

 

“He is very dear to me,” said Elladan thoughtfully, wondering why Mithrandir wanted the roof to leak in Erestor’s bedroom. To him, it made no sense.

 

But for Mithrandir, everything was finally falling into place.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Why? Why in Elbereth’s name do these things happen to me? Why me?” Frustrated, Erestor stared at his bed, perfectly positioned beneath the hole in the roof, which he had only noticed after it had begun to rain. He had already gone to sleep, determined to find some privacy in the safety of his bed, but fat raindrops had descended onto him, splashing apart on the tip of his nose. A few seconds later the rain had burst out in earnest and he had quickly left his bed before his nightshirt could be drenched by the rain. Now he stood at the foot end, staring at the bed with eyes filled with misery. He had considered moving the bed, or placing the mattress on the floor, but it was too late for that now, as the mattress and bedding were already dripping wet.

 

“What do I do now?” Staring down at his feet, he realized the cold was beginning to creep up from beneath the wooden floor. Just when he had thought his life couldn’t be more miserable, this happened. He just wanted to sleep. Was that really too much to ask for?

 

“Excuse me, Master Erestor, but I overheard you talking to yourself.” Mithrandir, clad in a grey nightshirt and warm leggings appeared in the doorway to Erestor’s room. He looked ready to go to sleep and eyed Erestor’s bed closely. “That is most unfortunate, my friend.”

 

Erestor shrugged once, suddenly finding it hard to care. Everything that possibly could go wrong was, indeed, going wrong. “Maybe I can salvage a blanket and sleep on the floor.”

 

“No, that wouldn’t do,” said Mithrandir firmly. “If you do not mind sharing my bed, you can sleep there. It is big enough for the two of us – as long as I can sleep closest to the door.”

 

“I cannot accept your kind offer,” said Erestor, directing his gaze to Mithrandir’s ancient and wrinkled face that radiated compassion and understanding. “Such an intrusion is…”

 

“Welcome,” Mithrandir assured. “We can ask Celeborn to fix the roof tomorrow, but you need a bed to sleep in tonight. Please accept my offer.”

 

Erestor sighed, giving in as he nodded his head. “In that case, I accept, but I still regret—“

 

Mithrandir cut the Elf short. “’Tis not your fault the roof is leaking, my friend.” Raising a hand, he signaled for Erestor to follow him into the other bedroom.

 

Erestor followed hesitantly, not completely assured Mithrandir didn’t mind sharing the bed with him. He had thought the Wizard would insist on his privacy. True to his word, Mithrandir slipped beneath the covers on the side that was closest to the door. “Are you going to stand there for the reminder of the night or will you join me?”

 

Erestor slowly approached the bed, gingerly lay down and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Hearing Mithrandir grumble unintelligibly, he moved along with the mattress when the Istar got comfortable and waited for all movement and sound to stop. After long moments, the Wizard’s breathing evened out, signaling he had fallen asleep. Being in bed with someone else except Glorfindel – even with an ancient Wizard, who was fast asleep – felt odd. But at least he was warm and dry now.

 

Glorfindel… Thinking of the blond, Erestor cursed himself privately for forgetting to bring his former lover’s strand of hair to bed with him. Stroking the golden hair usually helped him fall asleep, but now he had to do without it. Sighing, distressed, he hoped Mithrandir was a deep sleeper and wouldn’t wake should he suffer from a nightmare tonight. Ever since he had taken to guarding Glorfindel’s sleep so many centuries ago, he had developed a light sleep, a habit of nightmares and regular sleepwalking. His concern for the Balrog-slayer even haunted him in his sleep.

 

Erestor pushed deeper into the comfort of the mattress. He pulled his share of the covers close, trying to cocoon himself and when he finally began to fall asleep, his thoughts were filled with worries about Glorfindel.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Don’t w-worry, l-lo…ve. I w-will take care of-f you…”

 

Mithrandir woke due to Erestor’s slurred speech and he was about to inquire what was wrong, when he saw that the raven-haired Elf had gotten out of bed. The chocolate brown eyes were still filled with reverie and the Elf’s trembling hands moved sluggishly, as if stroking someone’s hair.

 

“I will take you to the bathroom, Glor…. findel. Just hold on a little longer.”

 

Mithrandir watched with concern as his charge struggled with an invisible weight, stumbling into the bathroom. Recognizing Erestor was sleep walking, Mithrandir pushed down the covers and left the bed as well, following Erestor. Once he had also reached the bathroom, he found that Erestor had wet a wash cloth and now appeared to be wiping someone’s brow. /Glorfindel’s, of course./ Mithrandir’s greatest concern had come true then. This was what he had been afraid of; Erestor had slipped under the Shadow of his memories and concern, and was watching out for the blond Elda even in his sleep. Erestor had finally lost touch with himself. Mithrandir’s heart missed a beat, seeing Erestor sway on his feet. The dark-haired Elf then collapsed onto his knees, rocking his invisible lover.

 

“Every….thing will be all r-right, lo…ve. I am here and I won’t leave you. I lo…ve you, Glorfindel.” Erestor’s hands stroked imaginary hair and he wiped away invisible sweat from a non-existent lover.

 

Mithrandir’s heart went out to him and he knew it was time to take action. Soundlessly, he moved toward Erestor, sat on his heels beside the Elf and carefully wrapped one arm around him. “I am here for you, Erestor. We can return to bed now and go back to sleep.” He didn’t know how Erestor would react to this manipulation, but he hoped the Elf would allow him to take him back to bed. “Come with me now. You need to lie down.”

 

“I lo…ve you, Glo…fin…del,” whispered Erestor, who slowly rose to his feet now Mithrandir was pulling him along. “Love you.”

 

An embittered smile appeared around the corners of Mithrandir’s mouth. “I know you love him, Erestor. But you need to return to bed now.” Using a minute amount of his powers, he eased Erestor’s mind a little, soothing the distressed ripples in the other’s thoughts. He helped Erestor to sit down on the bed again, but had to let go in order to lift the other’s feet. “Lie down, Erestor.”

 

“I like it when you take care of me, lo…ve. You seldom do…” Erestor’s eyes – already misted over – now darkened with a veiled expression, as he slipped back deeper into sleep. “Hold… me? Hold me… just… once? You ne…ver do that these days… You used to.”

 

Mithrandir sighed deeply, hearing the pleading tone. “I will hold you, but I want you to lie down and go back to sleep, Erestor.” He had managed to maneuver Erestor into a sleeping position on his right side and he now returned to his side of the bed, giving the matter of holding Erestor consideration. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But after he had lain down and made himself comfortable, Erestor edged closer, snuggling up to him, burying his hands beneath the gray hair and beard. Mithrandir looked into the sleep-heavy dark eyes, his instincts telling him what Erestor needed the most.

 

After fighting his own personal demons, he gave in and wrapped his arms around his son.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir was unable to return to sleep, now that he was finally holding his only child in his arms. When he had lain with Ninniach -- Erestor’s mother -- he had been young and his body had just awoken, urging him to find out more about any physical pleasures with someone he loved. For a brief time they had found affection and understanding in each other’s arms. Ninniach had lost her husband and had started to fade from grief. But she hadn’t wanted to leave Magolion alone now that she was the only parent her son had left, and by giving her new strength he had pulled her away from Mandos’ grip. He had never thought their union had been fruitful in other ways as well.

 

When the news had finally reached him that Ninniach had died on a steep mountain slope, his heart had been heavy with regret, but Magolion had long reached majority and no longer needed a parent. At that time, he still hadn’t known he had sired a son.

 

That had changed the first time he had visited Elrond in lovely Imladris. When his friend had introduced him to his chief councilor, he had instantly felt the connection come alive, revealing the truth to him. But Erestor apparently hadn’t felt the bond and had simply greeted him formally. Seeing his son for the first time had caused tears to appear in his eyes. Elrond had given him an odd look, but he had blamed it on being tired and in need of rest.

 

Since then, he had closely watched Erestor, even placing spies in Imladris, which regularly reported to him on Erestor’s well being. When he had first heard about the falling apart of Erestor and Glorfindel’s relationship, he had opened his mind for his son and had instantly been drawn to his pain. His first thought had been to travel to Imladris, but the raven had told him that Erestor and Elladan were on their way to Lothlórien, so he had changed his plans, taking his bad news to Celeborn first instead.

 

“Hum…”

 

Erestor moved toward him, pressing himself as close as possible and Mithrandir reacted by tightening his hold on his son. “Sleep now and forget what troubles you. In your mind is only peace.” Using a minor spell, he soothed all troubling thoughts from Erestor’s mind, filling it with peace and a sense of well being instead. Now that his son was sound asleep and couldn’t hear him, he mused aloud. “I am sorry I didn’t know you existed, Erestor, or I would have been there for you.” Now he had inherited an adult son, who was in a lot of emotional pain. Perhaps, if he had been there for Erestor when he had been a child, certain painful events could have been prevented – like Magolion coming to hate Erestor.

 

Awkwardly – because he wasn’t used to bestowing such a caress – he stroked the long raven hair, which reminded him of Ninniach’s, his own midnight beauty. She had been the only one he had ever loved – truly loved – and Erestor was a child born out of love. If only Ninniach had loved him in turn. But she had been wounded too deeply by her husband’s death to enter another committed relationship. He hoped she had found comfort in having Erestor close.

 

To a certain degree, he even understood why Ninniach had never told Erestor who had sired him, but at the same time knowing that Erestor didn’t know his father’s identity saddened him. He had been too busy tending to Arda’s problems to check on Ninniach in the years after their brief relationship. If only he had gone back to see how she was doing! Then he would have seen his son!

 

“My son,” whispered Mithrandir in a doting tone, brushing dark hair away from Erestor’s face. “I am proud of you.” When he had realized that Erestor was Elrond’s trusted friend and chief advisor, he had known his son had done him credit. The half-Elf didn’t trust easily and during that stay it had become apparent that Elrond trusted Erestor unconditionally. It pleased him that Erestor had become the best he could, even without a father to guide him.

 

Holding Erestor in his arms now was a luxury he had thought he would never know. When he had made his requests, Celeborn had given him a lopsided grin, clearly thinking he was lusting after Erestor and he had set his old friend straight. For the first time in his long life, he had shared his most intimate secret with someone else. Celeborn had given him a most surprised look, but had then assured him he would do whatever it took to reunite the two of them. He was eternally grateful that his old friend had cooperated.

 

He enjoyed the sensation of feeling strands of Erestor’s hair slip through his fingers. Ever since finding out he had a son he had wondered if Erestor had inherited other traits as well, after all, Erestor was half Istar. Were hidden powers lurking inside his son? He should find out, for Erestor’s sake and his. His first task was to bring Erestor into contact with the world around him, the animals, the trees, the elements; nature in general. Seeing him interact with them would tell him how strong Erestor truly was.

 

“I acted irresponsibly, Erestor, and I am sorry I didn’t find out about your existence when you were a child. But I will do what I can now to ease your suffering. I am certain you love Glorfindel, but you cannot sacrifice yourself for him. Coming here to find yourself again was the smartest decision you could have made. We only have a few days together before I have to leave for Imladris, but hopefully I will get to know you a bit better.” Maintaining his distance at Elrond’s court had always been hard, but he had decided against revealing the fact that he was Erestor’s father because he didn’t want to reopen old wounds.

 

But now it seemed that Glorfindel had inflicted a new wound – maybe even a mortal one -- and he was needed to help mend the hurt. Brushing his calloused lips over Erestor’s brow, he hoped he could now offer the support he should have offered millennia ago.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

 

Part 14

 

 

Elladan had been unable to find sleep and had resorted to walking between the huge mallorn trees, needing a moment of peace and quiet. Even though he loved the beauty of Imladris, he felt more at peace here. Erestor had been correct, reminding him of the tranquility that this place bathed in. He knew it had a lot to do with the love Celeborn and Galadriel shared, for it warmed the Golden Wood from within, creating this lovely setting.

 

“Elladan?”

 

The young half-Elf turned around, hoping Orophin had sought him out. “Haldir.” He barely managed to keep his disappointment from his voice, acknowledging the eldest of the three brothers. Haldir was seated on a rock, looking out over the water. “I didn’t mean to disturb your musings.”

 

Haldir waved Elladan’s concern away. “You aren’t disturbing me, Elladan.”

Elladan walked toward the silver-haired Elf and sat down beside his friend. “You seem worried,” he said, noticing the little lines of worry that had appeared on Haldir’s brow.

 

“Not worried… not exactly,” clarified Haldir, who studied Elladan extensively. “I long for someone I cannot have… A feeling that I reckon is familiar to you too.” He was treading on thin ice, but felt they needed to discuss the attraction between Elladan and Orophin now.

 

Elladan nervously swallowed hard, still hoping it wasn’t he Haldir was pining for. “There is someone, yes.”

 

Haldir nodded once. “Am I correct in assuming that you have feelings for Orophin?” As the oldest, he had taken on the responsibility of keeping his brothers safe. Celeborn and Galadriel had taken them in – adopted them – when they had been babies, but all three brothers were painfully aware of the fact that they had lost their parents at a very tender age. If it hadn’t been for the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, they wouldn’t have survived their first few years. Celeborn and Galadriel had found the bodies of their parents first, slain by Orcs, before coming upon them and the two Elves had become their new parents in every sense of the word. “My brother’s happiness is very important to me and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

 

Elladan was growing nervous. Haldir had always been direct and the friendship between them ran deep enough to warrant this honest tone. “I won’t hurt him.” Haldir’s gaze fastened on him and he withstood the probing stare. “As I won’t ever tell him.”

 

One of Haldir’s eyebrows arched quizzically. “Why?” Now there was an answer he hadn’t expected. “Why keep this from him?” Orophin had told him he had feelings for Elladan as well and in his mind the two would work out very well.

 

“Think about it, Haldir. I am bound to Imladris. Yes, I can leave there for short moments, but I will always have to return there. Do you really think Orophin would desert this golden place to be with me in Imladris?”

 

Haldir frowned, puzzled. “Is that the real reason why you won’t tell him?”

 

Elladan studied Haldir long and hard, finally realizing what the silver-haired Elf had assumed to be the truth. “Orophin isn’t below my station, if that is what you think. We grew up together, Haldir! Neither my parents nor Celeborn and Galadriel ever treated us differently!”

 

Haldir blushed slightly. “I must confess that it occurred to me… Elrohir and you are Elrond’s heirs and my brothers and I… But there is something else. Wouldn’t Elrond expect you to… produce heirs? Orophin cannot give you any.”

 

If anyone had told him that he would be having this conversation with Haldir he would have declared that person insane, but for some reason it was really happening. He had never wanted Haldir to find out the truth. “Haldir, my father has seen the future and he knows the time of the Elves will come to an end. We will leave for Valinor and you and your brothers will doubtlessly be among the first ones to make that journey. What need is there for me to produce heirs, when we will leave Arda? No, my father would never demand I sired heirs.”

 

“Then why won’t you tell Orophin?” asked Haldir, truly puzzled. “If the two of you really love each other, you should talk about this in depth. It is true that Orophin’s soul is bound to the Golden Wood, but his heart is a different matter.”

 

“There is something else,” admitted Elladan, growing truly uncomfortable. “Elrohir and I will have to make our choices in the future. We are half-Elven and like our father, we will have to decide to belong to the Firstborn or the race of Man.”

 

“But there is more,” realized Haldir, who was beginning to understand Elladan’s self-doubt.

 

“Elrohir and I decided a long time ago that our choices would be alike. We won’t be separated like Elros and our father were.”

 

“And have you already made your decision?”

 

Elladan bit his bottom lip. “I have considered it, yes. I would choose to belong to the Firstborn, but Elrohir… He is drawn to the race of Man. I cannot leave him alone, should his choice differ from mine.”

 

“So you are prepared to sacrifice everything you are, everything you could be, could have, because Elrohir would choose differently?”

 

“We are twins, Haldir… ‘tis different.”

 

Haldir raised a hand and rested it on Elladan’s shoulder. “I respect your decision – whatever that will be, eventually – but let me give you some advice. Rúmil, Orophin and I are close as well, but none of my brothers would want me to sacrifice my personal happiness for them. I wonder if you know what you are giving up by not pursuing Orophin, but that is your decision. Remember that love can be brief and this might be the only time you are truly in love.” Haldir gently squeezed Elladan’s shoulder and got to his feet. “I have known Orophin and you my entire life and I think the two of you are well-matched. Don’t throw away a shot at happiness and true love, Elladan.”

 

Elladan nodded his head once. “I will give your words some thought, my friend.” He couldn’t deny the truth to Haldir’s words, but… /What about Elrohir? Our vow?/ Looking up, he realized that Haldir was already walking away from him and he hadn’t even had a chance to ask the Galadhel about *his* secret love. Would he ever find out?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Hal…dir?” Sleepily, Orophin watched his older brother enter, occasionally slipping back into reverie. He awoke again briefly when Haldir slipped into bed, pulling him close to rest against him. “Where… were… you?” A huge yawn escaped him and he smiled drowsily. “Sor… ry… tired.” His eyes blinked, and then he had to give in to exhaustion. He had been on border patrol for days before the call came to return home and welcome Elladan.

 

Haldir protectively held Orophin close, tucking his younger brother’s head beneath his chin. Maybe it was best that Elladan kept quiet as long as the half-Elf didn’t know what he really wanted. /I do hope he will come to his senses, Orophin./ As far as he was concerned, Elladan would be the perfect match for his brother.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan returned to his guest quarters, relieved to find his family asleep, as he wasn’t in the mood for more questions. He already had more than enough to think about.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Comfortable. That was the only word that perfectly described the way Erestor felt. Comfortable, warm and safe. He sighed blissfully, pressing closer to the warm body holding him. Glorfindel had finally come to his senses and was now holding him again, as he was supposed to. One hand wandered up the other’s chest, searching for soft lips, but encountering a mass of hair instead. /A beard?/ But Glorfindel didn’t have a beard!

 

Waking up with a start, the first thing he noticed was the gray, nearly white hair that hid his hands from view. Next was a rather large nose and kind, blue eyes, staring at him beneath bushy eyebrows. “Mithrandir?” He stuttered the name in utter shock, recalling the Wizard had offered him one side of the bed after the roof in his room had turned out to be leaking. Realizing that the Istar’s arms were tightly wrapped around him, he began to pull back.

 

“Be at peace, my friend,” said Mithrandir quickly, seeing the rising panic in Erestor’s large eyes. “You suffered a nightmare last night.” He carefully placed a hint of his sorcery in his voice to comfort Erestor, who slowly calmed down again. “You went into the bathroom and appeared to be soothing someone – Glorfindel perhaps?”

 

Listening to Mithrandir’s soothing voice, Erestor’s heart slowed its frantic beat. The Wizard’s manner soothed him and his tense body relaxed again. “Probably…” He recalled that something out of the ordinary had occurred last night. “Was I sleepwalking?”

 

Mithrandir nodded, pleased that Erestor had stopped pulling away from him. His son was still in his arms, looking trustingly at him. “I think so. I told you to come back to bed with me and you did. After tucking you in you asked me to hold you.”

 

Mesmerized, Erestor nodded again. “I wanted Glorfindel to hold me. I asked him every night for the last few weeks, but he never did.”

 

Mithrandir carefully masked his reactions, as he was growing increasingly cross with Glorfindel for having treated Erestor in that way. “The difference last night was that I did hold you. You snuggled up to me, my friend. That is why you are in my arms now.” Mithrandir was pleased that his tactic was working. Erestor was listening to him and an expression of beginning trust had appeared in the chocolate brown eyes. “Apparently you are so troubled about Glorfindel that you are acting out past actions in your sleep.”

 

Erestor needed a moment to truly understand what Mithrandir was telling him. “Do you really think that?”

 

Nodding his head, Mithrandir gave Erestor a long, probing look. “Your worry for Glorfindel is becoming unhealthy, you do realize that?”

 

“That is why I left Imladris. I need time to sort myself out.” Erestor suddenly wondered why he hadn’t moved out of Mithrandir’s arms yet. It wasn’t like him to trust this easily, even though he had known Mithrandir for millennia. There had always been something intimidating about the Wizard, but that was gone now. Instead, he felt like confiding in the Istar. “I finally realized I was beginning to lose myself. I have Lindir to thank for that realization.”

 

Mithrandir felt relieved now that Erestor was admitting the truth to himself. “You really needed to get away from Glorfindel, didn’t you?”

 

Erestor nodded, a bit awkwardly, as he was nodding against the Istar’s chest. “But I never wanted to give up on him.”

 

“You never did,” said Mithrandir reassuringly, “You still love him, don’t you?”

 

Another nod was delivered to the Wizard’s chest. “He is the other half of my soul. I will always love him, even if he no longer wants me.”

 

“Ah, Erestor, don’t despair yet. Give Glorfindel some time. Maybe he will realize the loss and make an effort to reclaim you. Don’t ever lose hope.”

 

Mithrandir’s advice gave Erestor new hope. “I will try, my friend.” He didn’t know what had happened just now, but for some reason Mithrandir had gained his trust, something he had never expected.

 

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” suggested Mithrandir.

 

“Yes, thank you.” It was with surprising reluctance that he pulled away from Mithrandir. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he wanted to stay in that embrace, which felt incredibly reassuring. Sitting upright, he flipped his hair back, giving the Wizard a probing gaze. “Thank you for indulging me. You didn’t have to hold me or take care of me.”

 

“I didn’t mind.” Mithrandir’s arms felt incredibly empty now that Erestor had moved away from him. The bond that connected him to Erestor had become stronger during the night, just as he had hoped it would. He just wondered if his son felt it as well. Watching Erestor leave the bed and disappear into the bathroom, he smiled weakly, silently thanking Celeborn for complying with his request. Hopefully he could now start building a relationship with his son.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Erestor emerged from the bathroom again, he felt refreshed and truly awake. He studied Mithrandir, who had dressed and was now smoking his pipe. In front of the Wizard stood a full breakfast tray.

 

“It is pouring outside, so Celeborn allowed us the luxury of having breakfast here.” Mithrandir signaled for Erestor to sit down and drink his tea. “I already ate, so eat your fill.”

 

Erestor poured himself a cup of tea and started on the sweet porridge, staring at Mithrandir from above the rim of his bowl. “You surprise me,” he admitted involuntarily. He hadn’t wanted to say it aloud, but it had slipped past anyway.

 

“I often have that effect on people,” chuckled Mithrandir, but then he sobered again. “Celeborn has called for a meeting later today. I expect you to join us, Erestor.”

 

“I will attend, though I doubt I can contribute to the meeting as I have no influence here.” Erestor finished his porridge and sipped his tea. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“This?” Mithrandir decided to play dumb.

 

“Taking care of me.” Erestor slathered a slice of bread with honey and slowly munched the sweet substance. “And don’t you dare deny it.”

 

The chuckle returned. “My dear Master Erestor, what gives you the impression that I am taking care of you? An Elf like you doesn’t need a minder.”

 

Erestor realized he was being made fun of, but instead of growing irritated, he returned the chuckle. “Very true, my friend.” Looking at Mithrandir, he grew aware of some affection, which he felt for the ancient Wizard. The realization was sudden and confused him. He decided it was best not to dwell on it now and wait until he felt less chaotic. “So when will I receive my first lesson?” he said, subtly changing their topic.

 

“Lesson?” Mithrandir frowned, then laughed. “Ah, you still desire to learn how to talk to the animals?”

 

Erestor nodded once. “I do, and you promised to teach me.” He was aware of the changed mood between them, which had become more relaxed and trusting. He didn’t know what exactly had happened last night, but he had lost any reserves he had felt toward Mithrandir, setting the stage for more enjoyable moments.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn gave Mithrandir a knowing glance, sensing the change that had occurred during the night. He didn’t know what a leaking roof had had to do with it, but he felt happy, seeing his old friend and Erestor interact in a more relaxed way. When Mithrandir had told him he was Erestor’s father he had declared the old Wizard insane, but Mithrandir had remained calm and explained everything to him. But even now, Celeborn found it hard to find any semblance at all between Mithrandir and Erestor. Father and son had never looked more different than this pair.

 

“How grave is the situation?” inquired Celeborn, leaning in closer. They had gathered around a round table, several of Celeborn’s advisors being present as well.

 

“Very grave. Orcs are venturing out of Dol Guldur, once again searching for the One Ring. Thranduil is in dire need of support.” Mithrandir, seated opposite Celeborn, nodded once. “Very grave indeed.”

 

“Then we should send reinforcements,” decided Celeborn, “I will instruct my sentries and send them marching to Fuinglad.”

 

“And I am certain Elrond will want to contribute as well,” said Erestor in earnest.

 

“My letter should have reached the Peredhel by now,” said Mithrandir thoughtfully. “I just hope the reinforcements will arrive in time.” He cleared his throat and then looked into Celeborn’s eyes. “Thranduil wasn’t certain he could count on Elrond’s and your support.”

 

“There are unresolved issues between us,” admitted Celeborn, “But that would never stop Elrond or I from supporting Thranduil if he is real danger.” He signaled for one of his personal guards to come closer, instructed the Galadhel and then turned back to Mithrandir. “My men will leave this very evening.”

 

Mithrandir nodded his head gratefully. “Elrond will doubtlessly be issuing the same orders right now.”

 

Sudden commotion erupted near the doorway and suddenly Rúmil appeared, quickly marching toward the assembled council. “My Lord!” Rúmil bowed respectfully before his Lord, though he had long stopped doing so in private. But this was a formal matter. “A guest has unexpectedly arrived!” He had been on border patrol for days when he had happened upon a lone rider from Mirkwood and he had quickly guided him here. “Prince Legolas Thranduilion is here and wishes to speak with you. He has been on his way for weeks, bearing news from Fuinglad.”

 

Celeborn immediately rose to his feet. “Bring him before me!” Had something unexpected happened for Legolas to come here? Thranduil was extremely fond of his son and Legolas seldom left the realm.

 

A moment later, another form appeared in the doorway, covered in dust and grime. The usually golden hair was now covered with the dirt of the road and the greens of Mirkwood were hardly recognizable beneath the mud that clung to the fabric.

 

Legolas quickly advanced on the council, showing his respect by bowing deeply before addressing Celeborn. “My Lord, I bring bad news.” He briefly swayed on his feet, but Rúmil quickly steadied him. For one moment it seemed he would shake off the steadying hand, but then he allowed it. “Orcs have invaded my home and my father is need of reinforcements.”

 

Seeing the exhausted state Legolas was in, Celeborn rose from his chair and marched toward the drained blond. “Sit down, pen-neth.” Although Legolas already counted several millennia, the other Elf was still young compared to the ages he carried. He guided Legolas to a chair and sat him down. Sitting on his heels, he gathered Legolas’ hands, which were surprisingly cold, in his. The young prince had obviously run himself ragged to get here in time. “I just gave the word to my Galadhel to march for your home to aid your father.”

 

“And what of Imladris? Will Elrond Half-Elven offer his support as well?” Legolas was here as an advocate of his people. He needed to secure their support if his people were to survive.

 

Celeborn had not wanted to drain himself by farspeaking with Elrond, but realized he had no choice now. Centering himself, he reached out, crossing miles to speak with Elrond. Several moments passed, and when he met Legolas’ gaze once more, he nodded slowly. “Yes, Elrond will aid your father as well. He just assured me he will send his best men to fight alongside your people.”

 

Legolas released a tormented sigh. He had nearly exhausted his mare and he himself hadn’t rested since leaving his homeland. “Then I arrived just in time.” Maybe the combined forces of Imladris and Lothlórien could turn the tides. Sagging forward, his exhaustion got the better of him.

 

Celeborn suddenly found Legolas leaning heavily against him, the usually so alert eyes losing their awareness. “He is exhausted.” Realizing he needed to take action, he signaled for Rúmil to approach. He was about to ask the sentry to see Legolas to the guest talan when he recalled telling Erestor it no longer existed. “Would you take Legolas in? He needs someone close and the three of you can take turns until he is fit enough to look after himself.” He ignored the dumbfounded look Rúmil gave him. He would enlighten Rúmil later, after Erestor had left.

 

“Of course, my Lord.” Rúmil carefully gathered Legolas in his arms and, cradling the golden-haired Elf close to his chest, left.

 

Celeborn turned to Mithrandir, reading deep concern in the sea-blue eyes. “Did you expect Legolas to come here? Did you foresee it?”

 

Mithrandir shrugged once. “This young Elf is destined for great things, my old friend; his future is in constant motion.”

 

“What does it mean? His presence here?” Legolas had only visited the Golden Wood once before and that had been shortly after reaching his majority.

 

“It means he is needed here.” Mithrandir’s brows had furrowed. “I don’t know what to make of this development. I am as surprised as you are.”

 

“That isn’t good,” commented Celeborn absentmindedly. But he had done everything he could. His own men were on their way to support Thranduil and Elrond was also dispatching guards. They could only hope the reinforcements would reach the Elven realm of Thranduil in time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rúmil stared in wonder at Legolas, now occupying his bed. What in Elbereth’s name had possessed Celeborn to assign Legolas to them? Why not let the healers tend to the exhausted Elf?

 

“Rúmil? Are you back already?” Haldir entered, a bit surprised to find Rúmil had returned early. He hadn’t expected his brother home until late that night.

 

“Ah, Haldir, you are just the one I need,” said Rúmil, smiling smugly. He knew of enough places to sleep – to really recover from the strenuous patrols – and had already decided on a course of action. There were enough vacant telain and he still wondered why Celeborn had insisted he take Legolas into his home. “I am leaving to get some much needed rest. You can care for our guest.” With a triumphant smile, he made for the door and quickly left. He didn’t want to be around when Haldir found out just who was sleeping in their bed.

 

“Rúmil! Come back! We need to talk! Where do you think you are going? And whom am I supposed to take care of?” Vexed and a bit flabbergasted, he stared after Rúmil’s disappearing back. But his brother didn’t answer him and, warily, he turned toward the bed after a groan emerged from beneath the covers. “Who did you leave in our bed?”

 

A dirty, golden-haired head appeared from beneath the covers, the large blue eyes still filled with the deep reverie of sleep. “Legolas?” What was Thranduil’s son doing in his bed? Cautiously, he approached the bed, now catching sight of the mud and dirt that clung to the Elf’s clothes and hair. Legolas was a warrior, and should wake up now that someone was approaching. But the Elf remained asleep, a clear testimony to the blond’s exhaustion.

 

Kneeling beside the bed, Haldir reverently reached out, stroking back a lock of hair – covered in mud – so he had a clear view of the Elf’s face. He had always found Legolas fair and seeing him sleep this sweetly only deepened his heartbreak. “Oh, my sweet Prince, what are you doing in my bed?” Was he dreaming? He pinched himself. Aiya, that hurt! So he could rule out dreaming. “Why are you here?”

 

Legolas’ eyes, which had been blank a moment ago, briefly filled with awareness. “Hal… dir…?” A weak smile curved the corners of his lips, but then sleep claimed him again.

 

Haldir sighed, wondering why Rúmil had deposited the Prince in his bed. “I had better find out what you are doing here.” Covering the sleeping Elf with a warm blanket, he lost himself in admiration of the other’s beauty for long moments. He eventually pushed himself to his feet and left reluctantly, needing to know why there was a blond beauty asleep in his bed.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

 

Part 15

 

 

Erestor and Mithrandir walked between the ancient mallorn trees, enjoying the tranquil peace that filled the Golden Wood.

 

“Will our forces reach Thranduil in time?” asked Erestor, concerned for the well being of Thranduil’s people.

 

“Let us hope they will,” said Mithrandir slowly, “But there is little we can do right now.” Looking about, he located a curious squirrel in the lower branches of a mallorn tree. He could tell that Erestor was beginning to brood again and he needed to distract his son. Telling the squirrel to come his way, he extended his arm for the animal to sit on.

 

Erestor’s gaze brightened, seeing the small animal gaze quizzically at him. “How do you do that?” His respect and admiration for Mithrandir continued to grow.

 

“’Tis simple, really,” explained Mithrandir. “Open your mind for him.”

 

Erestor nodded once, determined to succeed as he didn’t want to disappoint Mithrandir. Drawing in a deep breath, he took down the barriers that protected his mind and he reached out. “Ai!” A scream erupted from his lips, encountering a brilliant energy he had never experienced before. Quickly, his mental defenses snapped into place again and he stared at Mithrandir in shock. “What was that?”

 

Mithrandir hadn’t expected that violent response either. What Erestor had felt had been their father and son bond tightly slamming into place. From this moment on he had to be careful not to reveal too much to his son. In the end, he opted for a white lie. “I never sensed anything like that before. It must be due to the immense pressure you have been under…” Seeing Erestor’s puzzled expression, he added, “Glorfindel.” Realizing he needed to distract Erestor, he told the squirrel to sit on the Elf’s shoulder, which the animal promptly did.

 

Whilst Mithrandir was still pondering the possible consequences of that bond they now shared, Erestor was already intrigued by the curious animal, which was staring at him. “What do I do?”

 

“Use your mind. Think.” Mithrandir mentally monitored Erestor’s actions, feeling the exact moment that a part of his son’s powers was released.

 

Erestor felt it too. “What was that?”

 

“Think,” repeated Mithrandir, refusing to address Erestor’s emerging powers right now.

 

Erestor nodded once and then politely asked the squirrel to move to his other shoulder. When the rodent complied, a brilliant smile appeared on his face. “It worked!”

 

Mithrandir smiled proudly, but at the same time he realized that others had witnessed Erestor’s coming to power as well. The other Istari and maybe even Sauron had probably felt Erestor’s potential. /This is going too fast. I am supposed to guide him, not expose him to danger./ Had he unwillingly endangered his son? He hoped not.

 

In the meantime, Erestor was happily conversing with the squirrel, learning the fine art of nut collecting. He had seldom felt this exultant before and turned to Mithrandir to thank the Wizard for his help and guidance, but then he saw the worried expression in the blue eyes. “Is something amiss?”

 

“I hope not,” replied Mithrandir quizzically.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“But why not assign him one of the guest telain? I don’t understand why you told Rúmil to take Legolas to our home.” Haldir stared in bewilderment at his Lord and surrogate father.

 

“I couldn’t do that,” said Celeborn, “You will just have to make the best of it. I am certain you can take care of him. You always looked after your brothers, so what’s different this time?”

 

Haldir bowed his head in acceptance, knowing Celeborn really had no idea how difficult this situation was for him. “I will look after him.”

 

“Good!” exclaimed Celeborn. Watching Haldir closely he could tell something was upsetting his adopted son, but he had no idea what it was. “Is something amiss with Rúmil or Orophin?” Maybe Haldir was upset because something had happened to his brothers? But he didn’t know of any incidents.

 

“No, nothing is wrong. I just wondered what a Prince was doing in my bed.” Haldir swallowed hard. “So I am to care for him until he has recovered?”

 

“Do you mind?”

 

“Not really. I was just… surprised.” Haldir began to walk toward the doorway, but he suddenly found Celeborn blocking his path. “Don’t. Please. Don’t.”

 

Celeborn’s heart went out to Haldir. “You cannot hide from me. You should know that. I have known you since you were an Elfling, sitting in my lap.”

 

“Don’t make me do this,” growled Haldir, using his long hair to shield his face from Celeborn’s knowing eyes.

 

“You don’t have to. I already know what troubles you.” Celeborn placed one hand on Haldir’s shoulder and used the other to lift the silver-haired head. “Do you really think you can hide your true feelings from me? You never could.”

 

“Ada…” The word seldom slipped past Haldir’s lips, but it did now. “Why do I love him?”

 

Celeborn sighed deeply and folded his arms around Haldir, whom he loved as a son. “We don’t get to choose whom we love. It just happens.”

 

“But why does it have to be Legolas? The one I can never have?” Haldir was briefly reminded of his conversation with Elladan. He had told the half-Elf to take his chances with Orophin, but his own situation greatly differed from theirs. “We both know that Thranduil will never accept me as his son in law, and Legolas… Legolas doesn’t even know that I love him!”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” mused Celeborn aloud. “And where there is love, there is a way. Now return to your talan and see to our royal guest. Don’t despair, my son. For all hope isn’t lost yet. Maybe his heart will warm and he will find he has feelings for you in turn. After all, you are fair and courageous. What is there not to love about you?” Fondly, he looked at Haldir, proud of his son. Haldir might not be his blood, but he loved the silver-haired Elf and his brothers as if they were his own offspring. “Off with you.” He gave Haldir a reassuring smile and then directed the younger Elf in the direction of the doorway.

 

After Haldir had left, Celeborn smiled. Love was in the air.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I was thinking of writing Erestor a letter,” said Glorfindel hesitantly, wondering if Elrond would approve of the idea. “It has been three weeks since he left and I feel I have made some progress. That journal you gave me really helped me in finding out what is causing my problems.”

 

Elrond studied Glorfindel carefully. “I agree that you are working hard and making certain changes. And the things you told me about the last night of your life in Gondolin clarified a lot for me. You lost everyone you ever cared about. You even lost your life -- yourself.”

 

Glorfindel nodded once. “And I will continue to face those horrible memories, but… I want to let Erestor know that I am trying to sort out my problems. And if he still wants me… I want to let him know that I want him too.” Glorfindel blushed slightly. “But I am afraid my wording might be… inappropriate and I was wondering if you would read my letter first, before I send it to the Golden Wood.”

 

“What would you write about?” Elrond considered the matter. He thought it was still too early for Glorfindel to contact Erestor, but much depended on the content of said letter.

 

“I want to apologize for wronging him… and I want him to know that I am finally facing my past – my nightmares.” Glorfindel awkwardly fumbled with the sleeve of his tunic. “That I know I am to blame for many of the problems we had.”

 

Elrond nodded his head once. “Anything else?”

 

“That I regret giving in to Magolion.” Erestor’s half-brother was still a sensitive topic where he was concerned. When he had first brought Magolion up in conversation with Elrond, he had tried to put all the blame on the dark-haired Elf, but the Peredhel hadn’t let him. Elrond had pointed out to him that part of the blame was his for giving in. Glorfindel had fumed with anger at hearing that, but after calming down, he had realized the truth in those words. “I was meaning to ask… How does he fare?” Hearing that Magolion was also trying to change his ways had come as a great surprise and it had taken him time to accept that fact. They had even met once – by accident. Glorfindel had just left Elrond’s study and Magolion had been waiting in the antechamber, eager to talk to the half-Elf.

 

Glorfindel hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time, but he had seen the changed expression in the green eyes. He had read regret, guilt and hope in them and when Magolion had tried to address him, he had quickly left, as he hadn’t been ready yet to confront the dark-haired Elf. Since then, a truce had been established. Glorfindel and Magolion left each other be, but when encountering the other accidentally, they greeted each other politely.

 

“He is struggling with his past, much as you are,” said Elrond calmly. Balancing between the two of them was hard, as he didn’t want to betray either one’s trust. “And like you, he is trying hard to change.” Elrond still vividly remembered one evening when Elrohir had sought him out. His son had told him about his nightly conversations with Magolion, who still called himself Estenion. He had pondered the information and had then told Elrohir to continue in this fashion, as the conversations were helping Magolion deal with his problems. Elrond had also noticed the beginning friendship between Elrohir and Magolion and he wasn’t certain how he felt about that. He just hoped that Magolion wouldn’t unexpectedly return to his former ways and hurt his son. But Elrohir was cunning in his own right and wouldn’t allow Magolion to play him. Maybe that was why the two of them seemed well suited. Elrohir didn’t have any weaknesses for Magolion to prey on.

 

Glorfindel met Elrond’s gaze and he asked, “Any news on Erestor?” One week ago, a large regiment of their guards had left for Mirkwood to aid Thranduil, and Elrond had mentioned farspeaking with Celeborn. Since then, the two Elven-Lords had farspoken once more. Celeborn had taken the initiative, wanting them to know that Elladan and Erestor had arrived safely. Since then, there had been no more news and Glorfindel was turning himself inside out, afraid Erestor would fall for one of the silver-haired Galadhel.

 

“Nothing since I last farspoke with Celeborn, I am afraid,” said Elrond, hating to disappoint his friend. “But I am certain that Elladan will look after your councilor.”

 

Glorfindel sighed deeply. “I was blind to let Erestor go. I should have tried harder to keep him here.”

 

“You know that now, but you needed these past few weeks to realize that.” Elrond rose from his chair, walked toward Glorfindel and placed one hand on his friend’s shoulder in a reassuring way. “Why don’t you start writing that letter? I will look it over and tell you if you hit the right tone.”

 

“Thank you for doing that for me.” Glorfindel looked up at his friend, hovering above him. “I want him back, but I know I need to proceed slowly.”

 

Elrond gave the blond a warm smile. “Erestor loves you, Glorfindel. Have some faith in him.”

 

“I am working on it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Well done!” Elrohir grinned at Magolion, simultaneously wiping away the sweat that had formed on his brow during their sparring match. They had practiced their swordplay together every day for the last two weeks and both of them were improving. Elrohir sheathed his sword now that the match had ended and patted the dark-haired Elf’s shoulder. “You manage to flawlessly point out my weak spots, my friend.”

 

“I point them out to you so you can improve them,” said Magolion, who was panting slightly. Looking adoringly at the half-Elf, he was struck by a feeling of deep respect. Elrohir had become the first, real friend he had ever had. He didn’t manipulate the half-Elf, tried hard to speak the truth and always maintained a friendly mood around him. Elrohir had changed his life. Thanks to the Peredhel, Magolion was finally beginning to believe there was a different life available to him; that he only needed to reach out and grab it. The only thing that weighed heavily on his mind was the fact that he was still using an alias. More than once had he considered telling Elrohir who he really was, but he was afraid to jinx this budding friendship.

 

Magolion smiled warmly and fell into step beside Elrohir. They were about to leave the training grounds and return to the Last Homely House when they came upon Glorfindel and several guards. He involuntarily held his breath.

 

Glorfindel saw the two Elves and nodded once, passing them by. It was still hard on him to acknowledge that Magolion also deserved a second chance, but Elrond had explained to him that in many ways Magolion’s burden was even harder to bear. Magolion had wronged Erestor from childhood, had turned his younger brother away, hurting and hating him. He consoled himself with the hope that he might be able to reclaim Erestor’s heart one day.

 

Magolion watched the Elves leave and when his breath escaped, his body relaxed. Had Elrohir noticed his tension? Apparently not, as the half-Elf continued to chat on in a friendly manner. Now that Glorfindel was gone, his thoughts returned to Elrohir. He studied the half-Elf from beneath dark eye lashes, recognizing the rare beauty in the other’s facial features and soul. The bad thing was, he was reacting to it, being attracted to this strong, pure strength that was so unlike his darkness. He was quickly falling for the young Peredhel and knew it was the worst thing he could do. Elrohir was being a friend now that he needed one and he shouldn’t be lusting after his only friend. But he couldn’t help it. Elrohir’s pure radiance pulled him close, wrapped itself around him and left him with no way out.

 

“Will I see you at dinner, then?” asked Elrohir, realizing his companion wasn’t paying the conversation any attention.

 

“Yes,” said Magolion quickly. On some evenings, Elrohir would excuse himself from his father’s table and they would eat in the half-Elf’s quarters instead, carrying on companionable conversations. It was those evenings Magolion cherished the most, as he was at times allowed a private look into the half-Elf’s soul. “I will be there.” After giving Elrohir one last smile, he turned around and headed for the guest quarters.

 

Elrohir watched until Magolion had disappeared inside the building and then released a deep sigh. This was going all wrong. He hadn’t counted on developing feelings for Erestor’s half-brother. But after he had first met Magolion, he had told himself to treat the other Elf without prejudice, giving Magolion a fair chance and now he was beginning to lose his heart to him. Needing to talk to someone about the predicament he had gotten himself into, he headed for his father’s study. Hopefully Elrond could spare him a moment of his time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Yes, enter…” Absentmindedly, Elrond told his son to enter, as he was trying to catch up on his neglected correspondence. Guiding Glorfindel and Magolion during this difficult period took up much of his time and he was already yearning to lie down in Lindir’s arms and let his beloved fuss over him.

 

“Ada? Can we talk?” Elrohir shuffled into the room, suddenly feeling like the child he had once been when he had come to his father because something upsetting had happened to him. Throughout the years he had learned to deal with most problems himself, but now he definitely needed his father’s council.

 

“Of course! I always have time for you, my son.” Elrond resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get any work done today and placed the papers aside. Rising from behind his desk, he walked over to the fireplace, signaling for Elrohir to follow. Whilst his son seated himself, he poured two glasses of the finest Miruvor and handed Elrohir one of them. Seated opposite his son, he sensed something troubled him. The fact that Elrohir still sought him out for his council touched him deeply, realizing he had done a good job, raising his children. “What is it that you wish to talk to me about?”

 

“Magolion,” said Elrohir after sipping his Miruvor. “I am getting too close to him.” He observed his father closely, wondering what advice Elrond would eventually give him. “I never thought I would feel attracted to him, but it happened.”

 

Elrond nodded once. “This comes as no surprise to me, my son. I have watched you closely and I saw the sparkle in your eyes when we discussed Magolion.”

 

“What is your advice in this matter? What do I do?” Elrohir leaned in closer, eager for Elrond to speak.

 

But Elrond took the time to consider his answer and when he knew what he wanted to say, he addressed his son. “Magolion is very fair, Elrohir. He is a skilled sword fighter and we both know he has the potential to be more than he is. His heart is weighed down by his newfound knowledge that he has wronged Erestor and many others in the past. He is trying to redeem himself, but his heart is still full of self-doubt.”

 

Elrohir nodded. “Where does that leave me?”

 

“It leaves you in a dilemma,” said Elrond slowly, after sipping the sweet liquid. “You met him after he had his change of heart and you haven’t seen the dark side to him. I have. And so has Lindir.” He had confided in his son about his new lover when Elrohir had caught them holding hands. He had been incredibly relieved that his youngest son seemed to accept this new love. “Don’t act rashly. There is no reason to make a decision now. Continue to befriend him, make sure you know who Magolion is deep down in his heart before you lose yours to him.”

 

“You are cautioning me.”

 

“Yes. Magolion is like a leaf in the wind, being tossed in several directions at once. He is trying hard to remain on his chosen path, but ‘tis still possible he will revert to his old ways. ‘Tis is still too early to tell if this change is permanent.”

 

“You don’t want to see me hurt,” said Elrohir in understanding. He placed his glass on the side table and then took one of Elrond’s hands between his. “Ada, you always watched out for my heart, but I am afraid I have already lost it to him.”

 

“Did you already tell him this?” asked Elrond, concerned for his youngest son.

 

“No, he doesn’t know I have developed feelings for him.”

 

Elrond released a deep sigh. “Good. I don’t think you should tell him just yet.”

 

Elrohir nodded his head once, beginning to realize he had to dampen his feelings. “Are you afraid that Magolion is merely pretending to be changing?”

 

“No, I don’t think so,” said Elrond thoughtfully, “He is being sincere in his effort to better his ways, but he only realized how wrong he was three weeks ago. What is three weeks compared to several millennia?”

 

“You are right,” whispered Elrohir in understanding. “Magolion’s mental state is still fragile.”

 

“And that is why you need to remain his friend and nothing more. Who knows what time will bring? If your love is meant to be, it will happen in time.” Elrond curled his fingers around his son’s, soothingly rubbing the skin. “I should be completely honest with you, Elrohir. I do think Magolion and you would be well matched because you have an inner strength, which he isn’t used to dealing with. Most of his ‘lovers’ were his ‘victims’ and he found their weaknesses to prey on them. With you, he has realized he has found a beacon in his storm.”

 

Elrohir’s eyes widened slightly. “Did the two of you discuss me?” After all, Magolion also went to Elrond for council.

 

Elrond’s smile turned a bit mischievous. “He told me he is falling for an Elf, but he didn’t give me your name. I doubt he would dare mention that it’s my son he’s falling in love with. I think I put the fear of the Valar into him when I opened his eyes three weeks ago.”

 

“Falling for me? Falling in love with me?” Elrohir’s eyes sparkled with mirth and contentment. “I knew it.”

 

Elrond stroked the back of his son’s hand. “Don’t tell him yet. Don’t act on this right now. Give it time. Give Magolion the time he needs to find his true self.”

 

Elrohir nodded, recognizing the truth in his father’s words. “I won’t tell him yet.”

 

Elrond sighed, relieved. “Very good.” He had been worried that Elrohir would act rashly once he knew for certain that his feelings were mutual, but he should have put more trust in his son. Elrohir was wise enough to make the right decisions.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Lindir? Love?” Elrond looked about, surprised at finding his bedroom empty.

 

“Join me in the bathroom, Elrond.” Lindir had already filled up the pool, knowing Elrond would enjoy a hot bath after a day of hard work. Already naked himself, he lowered himself in the warm water and sat on one of the carved seats in the pool.

 

When Elrond finally entered the bathroom, Lindir released a pleased sigh at seeing his beloved. “I missed you during the day.” Elrond spent most of his days in his study and at times it was difficult to sneak inside to get a moment of the half-Elf’s time. But the evenings and nights were theirs alone. “You are wearing too many clothes,” purred Lindir in a tone that he knew would travel directly to Elrond’s groin.

 

Elrond grumbled softly and began to disrobe. It hadn’t taken Lindir long to find ways to wind him around his little finger and to be honest, he really didn’t mind. It meant a lot to him that Lindir was taking his time to get to know him -- really know him; his strong points, his weaknesses, needs, desires and his thoughts. And he was trying to do the same for Lindir. Between the sheets, they had also already found their preferences, alternating their roles as they saw fit. Tonight, he decided, he would leave it up to Lindir to choose what role he should adapt.

 

Naked now as well, he accepted Lindir’s hand in his, allowing his lover to guide him into the water. “I missed you too.” Settling in the embrace, he rested his head on Lindir’s shoulder, enjoying the soft caresses bestowed onto his hair. “Tell me what you did today. Distract me from my worries.”

 

Lindir decided he would address those worries later, but for now he gave in and distracted Elrond by telling him about the new songs and poems he had composed today, even reciting some for his lover. He felt the half-Elf relax against him, grateful for the soothing effect his voice had on his lover. Now that Elrond had been lured into a relaxed state, his fingers explored his lover’s soft skin, caressing the half-Elf’s face. “Are you in the mood to make love to me?”

 

Elrond’s eyes, which had closed in peaceful bliss, opened at once and looked trustingly at his lover. “I am always in the mood to make love to you.”

 

“Aren’t you too tired, love?” Lindir smiled reassuringly. He wanted nothing more than to feel Elrond inside him, but if the other was mentally exhausted, he would wait until Elrond was rested again.

 

“I won’t ever be too tired to make love to you,” purred Elrond, raising a hand to brush long strands of white hair behind Lindir’s delicately pointed ear. “How do you want me, my sweet?”

 

“I want to feel you inside me.” Lindir moved until he was straddling his lover’s lap. Warm water caressed his hardening flesh and he suggestively rubbed himself against his lover. “I want you to take me.”

 

“Always…” whispered Elrond, still in awe of the love that Lindir bore him. Sometimes he felt sad, because they had danced around each other for so long, wasting precious time, but he quickly composed himself as Lindir’s lips hungrily claimed his. Slipping one hand beneath his lover’s bottom, his fingers moved up and down the other’s cleft, bringing Lindir’s arousal to its full height.

 

Lindir’s heartbeat sped up. “I need you, my Lord, and I need you now. Please don’t play games with me.”

 

When Lindir had first addressed him thusly when making love, Elrond had been puzzled to why his lover would call him ‘my Lord’ in the heat of passion. But he had quickly caught on, realizing Lindir loved a little role-playing in bed. “Do you want me to ravage you, my sweet?” His index finger massaged his lover’s guardian ring, slowly preparing him for their lovemaking. No matter how badly both of them needed this, he refused to be rushed.

 

“Yes, my Lord, please take me. I am yours… Only yours.” Wrapping his arms and legs around Elrond, his breathing paused briefly, feeling the tip of his lover’s hard flesh against the entrance to his body. There had been times when they had made slow love, but tonight he wanted it fast. No long foreplay drawing it out. He simply needed Elrond now.

 

When Lindir threw back his head in surrender, Elrond slid his fingertips down the smooth neck. Leaning in closer, he kissed the soft skin, suckling slightly. Time and time again, Lindir’s passion amazed him. When they had become lovers, he had thought Lindir would be timid in the bedroom, but the white-haired Elf’s passion equaled his. “Not in the water, my love,” he whispered in between bestowing kisses beneath Lindir’s collar bone. “Not like this.” Demonstrating his considerable strength, he easily lifted his lover after wrapping one arm around the other Elf’s waist whilst his other hand continued to fondle the firm buttocks. Their gazes locked and both forgot to breathe momentarily, seeing the need in each other’s eyes.

 

Lindir moved quickly, when Elrond put him down on the bathroom floor and pushed himself up on all fours, presenting himself to the Peredhel. “Now, my Lord, take me now!” Looking at Elrond from over his shoulder, he nodded his head fervently. “Please.”

 

Seeing Lindir wriggle his backside, Elrond’s breath caught and he reached for the scented bath oil, quickly rubbing it on his straining member. After firmly grabbing hold of his beloved’s hips, he curled his fingers around his erection and guided himself into the tight passage. “Lindir…” Running one hand down his lover’s back, he whispered soothingly, whilst he continued to inch inside. Once fully buried, he leaned in closer and placed butterfly kisses on his lover’s shoulders. “So tight.”

 

Lindir released the breath he had been holding whilst Elrond had sheathed himself and slowly began to rock forward, only to impale himself on his lover’s shaft the next moment. Hearing Elrond moan his bliss, he looked over his shoulder at the divine beauty behind him. Elrond had closed his eyes and was chewing on his bottom lip during this moment of union. “You are beautiful when you take me, my Lord.”

 

Elrond’s eyes opened, shining with love and lust. “And you look extremely desirable on all fours, Lindir…” His lover’s reaction to those words was immediate, as Lindir impaled himself once more on his erection. “Oh, yes, take yourself, love.” Keeping still was difficult, but seeing Lindir push back onto his hard flesh made his heart thunder madly. “Don’t know how long… I can… keep still.”

 

“Then don’t, my Lord.” Lindir gave Elrond a wicked smile and then broke eye contact, lowering himself onto his elbows.

 

Elrond stopped holding back and thrust deeply, rubbing his lover’s gland deep inside the tight glove. Establishing a firm and deep rhythm, he passionately made love to his mate, making sure Lindir reached orgasm first. Once he felt his lover’s muscle contract around his shaft, he stopped thrusting, allowing Lindir’s orgasm to trigger his.

 

Lindir collapsed onto his stomach and Elrond followed him down, blanketing him and pressing him down with his weight. His fingers tangled in the long, white mane and his other hand soothingly patted his lover’s head. “You drive me insane with passion!” After riding out his orgasm, he slowly pulled out, always careful not to accidentally hurt his beloved. He rolled onto his side and watched Lindir pant softly, the eyes still closed. The white-haired Elf was a vision of unearthly beauty and more than once he had felt the need to compose a song in honor of Lindir. One day, he would. “Rest now.”

 

Lindir chuckled softly, opened his eyes and looked at his lover. “You will have to carry me to our bed. I am exhausted.”

 

“No, you aren’t,” said Elrond knowingly, pressing a kiss onto his beloved’s hair. “You are just too lazy to walk the distance.”

 

“I love it when you carry me,” added Lindir cheekily.

 

Elrond laughed warmly, cleaned them both up and then slid his arms beneath his lover’s back and knees. He carried Lindir to the bed, deposited him in the center and then stood back, admiring the agile body.

 

“Are you going to stand there or join me?” asked Lindir in a seductive tone.

 

Elrond took the hint and spooned behind his lover. “I love it when you want me to take you.”

 

“And I love being taken,” whispered Lindir, suddenly growing sleepy. “I love feeling you inside me.”

 

Elrond pulled up the covers and tucked Lindir’s head beneath his chin, stroking the long, silken mane. “Sleep tight, love.” As he listened to the deep and steady breathing, he realized that Lindir hadn’t heard those last words. The minstrel was already asleep.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

 

Part 16

 

 

And this is my Elladan :P Same actor, same movie. Pic by Ninon and credit for the ear goes to Ilye, thanks :P

 

 

Erestor admiringly stared at the gray wolf, lying at his feet and allowing him to rub his belly. Mithrandir had called the wolf, but once the feral animal had arrived, the Wizard had looked to Erestor to continue communication. Erestor hesitantly had taken over, and when the wolf had complied with his requests, a peaceful calm had descended onto him. “I never knew that feeling an animal’s mind had such a soothing effect.”

 

“Many try, but fail because they lack the ability to open themselves up to an alien presence.” Mithrandir still recalled the ecstatic look on Erestor’s face when the Elf had succeeded in mentally calling Tirith to him. The stallion had released a whiny and had then coming running towards the dark-haired Elf. For long moments horse and Elf had been lost in this new way of communication and Mithrandir had stood back, enjoying watching them. He was happy to have found a way to distract Erestor from worrying about Glorfindel.

 

“He feels calm,” whispered Erestor, grinning at the wolf, who slowly rose to his feet again. The animal stared at the Elf with his yellow eyes, and then turned around, heading back into the woods. “Thank you,” mumbled Erestor, watching the animal leave. He was slowly beginning to understand that he truly possessed the ability to talk to all animals. “Each animal feels different.”

 

“Of course they do. Each one of them has a specific personality.” Mithrandir, who had been sitting on a rock, slowly rose to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff. “This is one of those days when the long years I have lived make me feel ancient.”

 

“Then allow me to offer you my support.” Erestor quickly walked toward the Istar and took Mithrandir’s arm. “Lean on me.”

 

Mithrandir gave Erestor an amused smile. His physical appearance was deceiving, but he allowed Erestor to remain under the spell of his momentarily weakness. Erestor liked being needed, and in a healthy relationship, the same amount of comfort he gave, would be returned to him. “Thank you, my friend.” Leaning a bit on his son, Mithrandir relished Erestor’s closeness. He deeply imbedded this moment in his mind, uncertain if more intimate moments like these would follow.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Lord Celeborn?” Over dinner a comfortable mood had risen, and Erestor now addressed the Lord of the Golden Wood, wanting to bring the leaking roof to the silver-haired Elf’s attention.

 

Celeborn, seated to Erestor’s right, inclined his head, waiting patiently for his guest to continue. Looking at Erestor he still found it hard to see any semblance with the father.

 

“I thought I should mention that the roof in my bedroom is leaking.” Erestor looked down at his plate, surprised to find he had been wolfing down the food. That was quite an improvement from his listless appetite in Imladris. Catching Elladan’s gaze, he just knew the half-Elf had been thinking the exact same thing.

 

“Leaking? That is most unfortunate.” Celeborn exchanged a quick glance with Mithrandir, which only Galadriel noticed, and his wife teasingly kicked his shin, telling him to behave. He had confided in her about Erestor’s heritage – with Mithrandir’s permission, as the Wizard knew very well that he didn’t want to keep secrets from his wife. Galadriel had shared his amazement at hearing Mithrandir and Erestor were father and son, but she had also rejoiced at the news. Another prodding kick stopped his musings and Celeborn gave Erestor an apologetic look. “I will make sure it is fixed tomorrow.” That would give Mithrandir another night to build the trust between them.

 

At first Celeborn hadn’t understood what a leaking roof had to do with Mithrandir wanting to spend time with his son, but the Wizard had explained after today’s meeting. Sleeping in the same room allowed the Istar to soothe his son’s troubled mind and at the same time he could work on gaining Erestor’s trust. /You cunning old fox,/ had Celeborn said, finally fully realizing Mithrandir’s intentions. /You are establishing a bond without Erestor ever realizing it./

 

“Tomorrow?” Erestor frowned slightly. That meant one more night of sharing Mithrandir’s bed, and surprisingly enough, that pleased him. Starting eating his dessert, he grinned, and when Mithrandir returned that grin, Erestor finally realized he had made a new friend.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

/Make him see your worth. Make yourself irreplaceable./ That had been Celeborn’s advice, but how was he going to do that? Haldir cast a glaze at Legolas, who was riding at his side. It would take them at least one day to catch up with the Galadhrim, and that was all he had to make an impression on Legolas; one day.

 

Since their departure he had been trying to think of ways to impress the Sindarin Elf, but so far he had come up with nothing. They were warriors, excellent trackers and archers, had great skill with a sword and the hunting knives. How in Elbereth’s name was he going to draw Legolas’ attention? Compared to the Woodland Elf, he didn’t possess any extra-ordinary skills. And in station Legolas was his superior. Sighing, he admitted his case was hopeless. What had Celeborn been thinking when sending him on this mission?

 

“We should catch up with them in the early morning,” said Legolas enthusiastically, leaning forward in the saddle to study the tracks the Galadhrim had left behind. He had halted briefly and now Haldir’s horse came to a standstill as well. Looking at the darkening sky, he read the signs correctly. “A storm is heading our way.”

 

“It might be wise to seek cover,” said Haldir, sniffing the air and easily identifying the first snow the growing wind carried with it.

 

“But what if the storm will last a long time? It would be better to continue.” Legolas wanted to meet up with the Galadhrim as quickly as possible. Two Elves alone on the road presented an easy target, even though they were well-trained.

 

“I would advice against it,” said Haldir softly. “We have no idea how strong the storm is and we don’t want to be blown away or lose our horses in a snow storm.”

 

Legolas nodded, seeing the wisdom in Haldir’s words. Looking at the silver-haired Elf, he asked, “Do you know of a cave where we can seek cover?”

 

“I do.” Haldir nodded and then pointed to his right. “Follow me. We use these caves frequently.” He guided Legolas to one of the larger caves, whilst the wind intensified, nearly knocking them out of their saddle. It was a full-blowing gale now, and they held on, struggling to make it to the cave. A moment later, thunder erupted above their heads, quickly followed by blinding lightning. Last but not least, hail was released from the sky. “Just in time,” whispered Haldir, as they entered the cave.

 

Although Legolas and he could see perfectly in the dark, it was a different matter for their horses. “We need to build a fire.”

 

“Let me do that.” Legolas had already located that section of the cave that seemed to be used to build fires and found dry wood and flint. Within seconds he had a warm fire going.

 

Haldir in the meantime took care of the horses, taking them as deep down into the cave as possible, where he used a handful of straw to rub them dry. After finishing his work, he sat down cross-legged beside Legolas. Looking at the entrance to the cave, he found that the blizzard had built to full strength. “If we had stayed on the road…”

 

“The blizzard would have swept us away,” finished Legolas for him. He felt a bit odd, wearing Rúmil’s clothes, but his own hadn’t been returned to him in time and he preferred to wear clean ones, even if they were Rúmil’s. The dark green tunic resembled the clothes he would wear at home, but the scent was different. They smelled of their rightful owner. “What is it like? Having brothers?”

 

Haldir smiled warmly. “I love them both – dearly, but sometimes they can drive you insane. Especially Rúmil – like when he left you in my care after Celeborn had told him specifically to care for you.”

 

“Are you the oldest?” Legolas settled down a bit more comfortably. He pulled his cloak tighter, and lazily studied the handsome march warden.

 

“Yes, I am. Rúmil is the youngest.” Haldir shrugged his shoulders once. “One can tell by his immature behavior.”

 

“I am an only child,” said Legolas in an uncharacteristic moment of sharing some of his personal experiences. “I only have one parent left, but my father is the best I could wish for.” Seeing Haldir’s skeptical expression, he added, “Don’t believe the harsh tales you might hear about my father. Some of them are purely fictional and others exaggerated by people who bear him ill will.”

 

Realizing this was a rare chance to learn more about his love, Haldir listened closely.

 

“He is a good father, maybe a bit overprotective, but he means well. And he loves me with every ounce of his being.” Legolas smiled fondly. “I learned to wind him around my little finger at a very young age.”

 

“Yet he seldom lets you leave the Woodland realm,” mused Haldir aloud.

 

Legolas’ eyes filled with understanding. “Our woods are unlike yours, Haldir. The Mirkwood forests house great dangers; deadly spiders, Orcs, other vermin Sauron created, and then there is the always present threat of the Dark Lord himself. I seldom leave my realm because I am needed. I am needed to fight off those threats.”

 

“And your father?” Haldir reached within the saddle bags he had brought with him and uncovered wavers of lembas and a flask of sweet wine.

 

“My father does his best, but he cannot be everywhere at the same time. So I help him.” Legolas thankfully accepted the lembas and nibbled on it. “He has a hard life; one I don’t wish upon anyone.”

 

Haldir nodded his understanding. “In future I won’t judge again that quickly. The tales I heard told a different story, depicting your father in a rather harsh way.”

 

Legolas eyed Haldir thoughtfully. “You will stay in my realm for some time, Haldir. If you are to remain there until the dark threat has been taken away, you will get a chance to get to know my father personally. Give him a fair chance.”

 

“I will,” said Haldir thoughtfully. Watching Legolas sip the wine, he was awed by the other’s presence. The first thing that had attracted him to the Sindarin Elf had been the midnight blue eyes. He had fallen in love with those first, and now, he was also falling for the Prince’s character and loyalty.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

( A little something that inspired me)

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Night came upon them rather quickly, as the storm clouds obscured Ithil from their view. Although the two Elves didn’t feel the cold the snow brought with it, they saw their breath crystallize in the air, and they knew they had to be careful. They might not feel the cold, but when exposed to it for a longer period of them, the cold could freeze their limbs.

 

“We should move closer together,” mumbled Haldir, finding Legolas’ lips were taking on a blue hue.

 

Legolas nodded once. “And share each other’s body warmth.” He got up from the cold floor, made his way over to Haldir and raked the fire before sitting down again. The horses in the back where covered with warm blankets and the animals also huddled together, sharing body warmth.

 

Haldir wasn’t sure the gesture would be appreciated, but he extended one arm, hoping Legolas took the hint to move closer.

 

Seeing the logic of Haldir’s offer, Legolas sat down close and allowed the Galadhel to wrap an arm around him.

 

“During nights like these I sometimes find it hard to believe a new day will come and drive away the dark.” Haldir wrapped his riding cloak around them, staring into the fire.

 

“It will become warmer again once we approach Mirkwood. Sauron’s evil burns hotly and feels like a river of fire at the outskirts of the Woodland.” Legolas was eager to return home and aid his father in fighting the evil. “My father will be pleased when he sees how many Galadhrim are coming to his aid.”

 

“And there will be coming more from Imladris,” said Haldir, reminding him. “You don’t have to fight alone.”

 

“We have been fighting Sauron alone for much too long and our loses are great.” Legolas wasn’t certain he should tell Haldir this, but in the end the need to unburden his soul won out. “Most female Elves have long left our realm in search of a safer place to dwell. Many children left with them, and the few that remain we guard cautiously, but now and then one of the spiders break through, taking one of them with them. The children are easy targets and remain in the caves most of the time. Which is not a pleasant way to grow up. The majority of our guards are either wounded or recovering from their wounds. We are too weak to withstand Sauron much longer.”

 

Haldir’s eyes had widened during Legolas’ speech. “I didn’t know that.”

 

“Only a few do. ‘Tis not something my father and I are proud of. We do our best to keep our people safe, but we need new blood; reinforcements.”

 

“The Galadhrim and Elrond’s forces will strengthen your realm and return courage to your people,” said Haldir, trying to give Legolas hope. “We can never accept defeat. The Dark One mustn’t be allowed to win.”

 

“I hear you,” whispered Legolas, “I just hope we will arrive in time. When I left my father, our soldiers were fighting off a wave of attacking spiders. I don’t know how much damage they did to our defense lines.”

 

“Take heart, my friend.” Haldir reached for Legolas’ shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “We will fight the Dark Lord together and we will defeat him.”

 

Haldir’s determination strengthened Legolas’ resolve to hope for the best. If only the blizzard would die down so they could leave.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas was still sound asleep, leaning against him, his head resting on his shoulder, and Haldir was playing absentmindedly with a strand of golden hair. Legolas was everything he had ever wanted in a mate; courageous, intelligent, cunning, brave, a dedicated warrior, and doubtlessly a passionate lover. /I shouldn’t do this to myself. There is no way a son of Thranduil would choose someone like me for his life mate./

 

He cherished these few, seldom, silent moments, seated next to his beloved. The storm was dying and it wouldn’t be long before they could mount their horses again and join up with the reinforcements.

 

Legolas stirred against him, waking up. The first thing Legolas grew aware of was the warm and comfortable body against him, and when he looked at Haldir, he greeted the march warden with an encouraging smile. “Did the storm die? Can we leave?”

 

Haldir nodded once. “It will be safe outside in another hour.” He knew ‘Lorien’s snow storms and would never trifle with them. The wind could turn unexpectedly and hunt them down. “We should eat breakfast and wait for the last snow clouds to move on.”

 

Surprised, Legolas realized he was a bit reluctant to move away from Haldir just yet, but as he was awake now, it wasn’t appropriate to keep leaning against the Galadhel. Sitting upright, he straightened out his clothes and accepted the dried meat, lembas and water Haldir handed him. “Do you think we will catch up with your men today?”

 

/I hope not,/ thought Haldir privately, because then he had to share Legolas with the others again, and he liked having the golden-haired Elf to himself. “Probably,” he said a bit evasively. “Much depends on the weather. If we happen upon another storm…”

 

Nodding his head, Legolas thought over their situation. “Sauron waited for the first snow to attack because he knew we would have difficulty to bring in reinforcements. He is as evil as he is cunning.”

 

“We will reach Mirkwood in time,” promised Haldir, uncertain if he could keep that promise.

 

Legolas unsheathed his hunting knives and used a special rock to sharpen them, whilst Haldir readied their horses for departure. Casting a glance at Legolas, he was reminded of the other’s deadly fighting skills. /I wouldn’t want him for an enemy./

 

One hour later, Haldir judged it safe for them to leave, and it was with regret in his heart that he mounted his horse. Having Legolas to himself for one evening had given him more personal insight than he had thought he would ever get. Had they been able to spend another day together, they might have started to befriend one another, but there was little chance of that now. Within a few hours, they would join the Galadhrim. He would assume command of the regiment of warriors, but once they had reached Mirkwood, little of his power would be left whole by Thranduil, who would naturally want to take command of the reinforcements. /I just have to make the best of this situation./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Why didn’t you send me? I am Captain here! I should be leading our men into Mirkwood!” Glorfindel felt like his honor and courage were being questioned now that the Peredhel had asked his second in command to lead the reinforcements. He was furious with Elrond for making the decision the half-Elf had.

 

Elrond, seated behind his desk, whilst Glorfindel paced the study like a caged animal, tried hard to remain calm. “My friend, you barely sleep, and when you do, you suffer from nightmares. You are in knots about Erestor and your behavior right now leaves much to be desired. To be perfectly honest with you… You are in no shape to lead our guards.” Elrond was brutally honest and he hoped Glorfindel would eventually understand why he was keeping the blond in Imladris. “You need to work on your recovery first.” On the desk in front of him lay the letter Glorfindel had written Erestor, reminding him just how emotional Glorfindel was at the moment.

 

“I am a warrior! I can control my emotions in the heat of battle!” Glorfindel stamped hard with his foot to stress his words.

 

“But what of the silent moments when you are resting? Glorfindel, how long do you think you can keep your emotions under control? ‘Tis for your own best that I am keeping you here. I am not doing it to be spiteful,” said Elrond in a concerned tone. “You have to trust me that I made the right decision. You do trust me, don’t you?” He slowly rose from his chair and walked over to Glorfindel, who was forced to stop pacing when he blocked the Elda’s path. “You do trust me, don’t you?” he asked, repeating his question.

 

“I trust you,” admitted Glorfindel reluctantly, “But that doesn’t mean I agree with you.”

 

“You don’t have to,” said Elrond, placing the palm of his hand gently against Glorfindel’s cheek, lovingly stroking the facial skin. “And Thranduil will assume command the moment our men arrive. Be glad I spare you dealing with him.”

 

A hesitant smile surfaced on Glorfindel’s face. “For *that* I am grateful, but still…”

 

Elrond used the letter to distract his distressed friend. “Why don’t you find a messenger and send Erestor this letter of yours?”

 

Glorfindel immediately forgot his injured pride now that Elrond was bringing up Erestor. “I didn’t overdo it then?”

 

“Maybe a bit,” said Elrond thoughtfully, “But you spoke from the heart, which is most important.” He folded the letter close, sealed it, and then handed it back to Glorfindel. “Find a messenger and then help Elrohir training the remaining guards.” Whilst Glorfindel was thusly occupied he would talk some more to Magolion.

 

“Do you think he will write me back?” asked Glorfindel hopefully. “’Tis has nearly been four weeks since he left.” Four weeks, in which he had suffered from nightmares, but strangely enough they hadn’t been that bad because it always felt Erestor was at his side. He couldn’t quite explain the feeling and at times he thought he was losing his mind for feeling that way.

 

“We will have to wait and see,” said Elrond, uncertain how to answer that one. “Now, off with you, Glorfindel. Elrohir already awaits you.” He smiled, seeing Glorfindel run out of his study like an Elfling. There was no denying, Glorfindel was slowly recovering. The Elda had even allowed him to read his journal entries. The journal lay in his drawer to be returned tonight to Glorfindel. Reading the blond’s life history had clarified a lot for the half-Elf and he was confident he could help Glorfindel sort out his problems. All Glorfindel needed was some time.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 17

 

Glorfindel came to an abrupt halt, seeing Magolion spare with Elrohir, demonstrating some of the finer points of sword fighting to the attending guards. Elrond had told him that Elrohir had taken Magolion under his wing, but Glorfindel remained suspicious of Erestor’s half-brother. Although he himself was the living proof that someone could change, he wasn’t so sure Magolion was sincere in his wish to change his ways as well. He needed proof in order to convince himself that Magolion was trustworthy.

 

His breath caught, seeing Magolion execute a dangerous maneuver, which easily could have resulted in a serious injury for Elrohir. But the dark-haired warrior immediately removed his sword from Elrohir’s throat and then stepped back, a pleased smile shining from his face. Glorfindel's gaze traveled to Elrohir and he found the half-Elf grinning in turn. Apparently Elrohir never thought he had been in any danger, which implied trust had grown between the two of them. Normally Glorfindel would have rejoiced because Elrohir had made a new friend, but now that said friend was Magolion, he remained cautious instead.

 

He straightened his tunic and advanced on the two Elves, who had clearly ended the exercise. Magolion’s smile faded, seeing him approach, and Glorfindel focused on Elrohir instead, always feeling awkward when he had to deal with Erestor’s half-brother. “Your father sent me to oversee the training.”

 

“And ‘tis time for me to leave,” announced Magolion, avoiding Glorfindel’s gaze as much as the Elda’s was avoiding his. He usually lost track of time when sparring with Elrohir, and reckoned Elrond was already waiting for him in his study. “Will I see you at dinner?” he asked Elrohir, hoping tonight would be one of those nights that the young half-Elf excused himself from his father’s table to dine with him privately.

 

“Yes, you will,” replied Elrohir, carefully masking the deepening attraction he felt toward Magolion. His father’s advice had been sound and he kept Elrond’s words in mind, making sure his feelings remained hidden.

 

Magolion – pleased – inclined his head in goodbye and then gave Glorfindel a quick look before looking at the ground again. He headed for Elrond’s study, eager to discuss an idea he’d had. Maybe it was time that Glorfindel and he talked about their dealings. But before suggesting that to the Elda, he wanted to hear Elrond’s view on it.

 

“Elrohir,” whispered Glorfindel, once Magolion was out of hearing range, “Are you sure you know what you are doing – befriending him?”

 

Elrohir gave Glorfindel an odd look, and then told the guards to start their daily run. They would meet up here for sword and archery practice later. After the guards had gone, he signaled for his former tutor to walk with him. “Magolion is trying hard to redeem himself.”

 

“He doesn’t even use his real name around you!”

 

“Which is understandable,” said Elrohir, “Think, Glorfindel. He made a friend, maybe his first real friend in his life, and he is afraid he will lose that friendship once the truth is revealed. I am not condoning his action to hide his real identity from me, but I understand why he is doing it.”

 

Glorfindel snorted, clearly unconvinced.

 

Elrohir tried again. “You are getting a second chance, aren’t you, Glorfindel? It would have been easy for my father to shun you for what you did to Erestor, but he didn’t. Instead he offered you his help.”

 

“Elrond has been my friend for many millennia,” replied Glorfindel, feeling as if he were walking on very thin ice, which could give away beneath him any moment now.

 

“And Magolion never had such a friend before. Am I supposed to turn my back on him and thrust him back into darkness?” Elrohir stopped walking, placed the palm of his hand against Glorfindel’s chest and made eye contact with the blond. “You are receiving a second chance, does he deserve less?”

 

“You are right,” admitted Glorfindel reluctantly. “But it is hard for me to—“

 

Elrohir cut him short. “Believe me when I say it is hard on him as well, my dear friend.”

 

Glorfindel drew in a deep breath. “Maybe Magolion and I need to sit down and talk.” Glorfindel gave Elrohir a wavering glance, uncertain what would happen if they indeed talked.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“My Lord?” Magolion, who was seated opposite Elrond, carefully made eye contact with the half-Elf. Never before had he told anyone about his life, feelings, hopes and fears, but Elrond now knew everything there was to know about him. In some ways that made him feel naked and vulnerable, but it also gave him stability, as he couldn’t fool the Peredhel. “I have an idea, but I don’t know how well suited it is.”

 

Elrond inclined his head, indicating Magolion should continue.

 

“Whenever Glorfindel and I accidentally meet, there is this… pressure,” he didn’t know how to exactly describe it. “I thought it might be wise to sit down and talk about the things that happened in the past. Clear the air, so to speak.”

 

Elrond gave the suggestion careful consideration. “And would you own your part in the past?”

 

“I would,” assured Magolion. He watched Elrond closely, wondering what the half-Elf’s ruling in this matter would be. He still had to tell the Peredhel about befriending Elrohir, but he was stalling, afraid of Elrond’s reaction to hearing that news.

 

“It might work,” said Elrond eventually, “but there should be someone supervising that conversation.”

 

“You would be the best choice, my Lord,” said Magolion softly. “You regularly council both of us. You know what lives in our thoughts.”

 

Realizing that such a conversation could help both Elves with their healing process, Elrond nodded his approval. “I will arrange for it, and I will let you know when the conversation will take place. First I need to test the waters where Glorfindel is concerned. He might not be ready yet to confront you.” And by Elbereth, that confrontation could get ugly if it spun out of control.

 

Magolion began to rise from his chair, as the conversation had come to an end, and he was bit surprised when Elrond addressed him again.

 

“Are you having dinner with my son tonight?”

 

Magolion’s eyes widened impossible and they stared at Elrond in shock. “What?” So far, he had successfully convinced himself that his friendship with Elrohir had remained unnoticed by Elrond. But he had been fooling himself. Suddenly unsteady on his feet, he collapsed onto his chair again. “For how long have you known?” He was shaking like a leaf, uncertain if Elrond would allow him to continue to see Elrohir.

 

“From the beginning.” Elrond decided not to betray his son’s trust and didn’t mention the fact that it was Elrohir himself who had told him. “My guards are everywhere.” He had long pondered his decision to address this matter now, but in the end, he had realized that postponing it served no purpose. Keeping secrets was always bad.

 

Magolion nervously moistened his lips. “And you didn’t forbid me to continue to see him? I don’t understand why you would allow me to talk to him.”

 

“I watch you closely, never doubt that. Had you made a move on my son, I would have thrown you out of Imladris personally.” Elrond gave Magolion a firm glance. “But you didn’t.”

 

Magolion cleared his throat, extremely nervous now that he had to confess to Elrond. “Elrohir… I met him that first night, after you had set me straight on my unbecoming behavior. He missed his brother and we ended up talking.” Magolion swallowed hard before meeting Elrond’s gaze. “He is an excellent listener and he has a soothing voice. I liked his company. The next evening we met again… Actually, I searched the gardens for him. But you already know all that as your guards were watching. I never wanted to hurt or manipulate him.”

 

Elrond nodded encouragingly. “Continue.”

 

Magolion couldn’t believe Elrond was really making him do this! But he gathered his courage and continued. “Your son, my Lord, has become my first true friend. I never had one before and I am blessed to have him at my side.” Fumbling with the fabric of his sleeve, he timidly asked, “Are you going to forbid me to see him now? I must tell you my heart would ache, knowing I would lose the only friend I have.” It would be a high price to pay, but he also realized Elrond was in his right to demand he stopped seeing Elrohir. “I mean him no harm, my Lord. I merely enjoy his company.”

 

As far as Elrond was concerned, Magolion had passed this test. “I won’t stop you from seeing him, and I do believe he has a good influence on you, but should you ever hurt him I will have your hide, do you understand?”

 

Magolion’s mouth had gone dry, knowing Elrond meant every word. “I understand, my Lord, and I will continue to behave.”

 

“Excellent,” said Elrond, his mood improving now that they knew where they stood. “I will talk to you tomorrow, possibly with Glorfindel present as well.”

 

Shakily, Magolion rose from his chair. He bowed deeply and said, “Thank you, Lord Elrond. I won’t disappoint you.”

 

“You had better not,” whispered Elrond, as Magolion made his way into the corridor. Elrohir had reached adulthood a long time ago, but Elrond had never stopped being a protective parent.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel was restless. He had trained with the guards for some hours, but once they had left to join the patrol, he had been left alone, so he had headed back to the Last Homely House. Elrohir and Elrond had been nowhere in sight, and loneliness crept up on him, so he had headed for the Hall of Fire, where Elves were always present… If only Erestor were here as well.

 

“Glorfindel? Is something amiss?” Lindir had seen Glorfindel enter the Hall of Fire and had excused himself from his fellow minstrels. Coming to a halt next to the blond, he studied Glorfindel’s eyes.

 

“I miss him still,” admitted Glorfindel in a tiny tone. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

 

“You could write in your journal,” suggested Lindir.

 

“Elrond has it,” replied Glorfindel, idly tapping his foot on the floor. “And I won’t see him again until dinner.”

 

Lindir felt sympathetic. “I have to wait until dinner to see him too,” he offered with a weak smile.

 

Glorfindel gave him a warm look. “I gather things are going well between the two of you?” Elrond had been good humored, happy, and smiling a lot more than the half-Elf used to.

 

“Yes, he is everything I always hoped he would be,” said Lindir with a warm smile. “The only downside is that I have to share him with others constantly.”

 

“You want him all for yourself, don’t you?” Glorfindel chuckled, but then sobered. “I understand you only too well, Lindir. I want Erestor for myself too, but he is in Lothlórien. At least you get to spend the nights with your beloved.” Glorfindel didn’t want to pout, didn’t want to sound jealous, but he missed Erestor tremendously. “All I have are his robes, and the fabric is losing his scent.”

 

“Oh, my dear friend!” Lindir folded an arm around Glorfindel and hugged him. “Just remember that you will be holding him again when he returns in summer.”

 

“If he still wants me,” said Glorfindel in a petulant tone. “Providing he didn’t fall for one of Celeborn’s Galadhel.”

 

“Oh, you really don’t know him at all, my jealous friend!” This time, Lindir found it hard to remain serious, and chuckled. “Did you already send your letter?”

 

“But it will be weeks before it reaches him!” exclaimed Glorfindel upset. “Lindir, how do I know he still loves me?” He grabbed the minstrel’s hand and gave him a pleading look. “Please reassure me!”

 

“Oh, Glorfindel, Erestor loves you! And deep down in your heart you know that too! You just need to hear me say it. I guarantee you that you will receive a letter from Erestor in which he tells you he will wait for you as long as necessary. I know him, my friend.” Lindir hugged Glorfindel again and lead him toward the fire. “Come, sit with us and help us compose poetry. Or maybe listen to our songs. Let us distract you from your worries.”

 

“You are a good friend,” whispered Glorfindel thankfully. He had never fully realized just how friendly and understanding the white-haired Elf really was.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magolion cleared his throat. He was seated opposite Elrohir in the half-Elf’s rooms. It was a good thing that Elladan was in Lothlórien, for the twins apparently still shared these chambers. They had nearly finished dinner and were sipping hot tea, when he gathered his courage, determined to be honest with Elrohir. “There is something I need to tell you.”

 

Elrohir looked up at hearing the odd tone. Magolion was avoiding his gaze, which slightly worried him. “What is the matter, Estenion?” As long as Magolion preferred to be pretend he was someone else, he would play along.

 

After drawing in a deep breath, he said, “Estenion isn’t my real name. I made that up because I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me if you knew I was Erestor’s brother Magolion.” Remaining silent, he waited for Elrohir’s reply. When none came, he looked at the half-Elf.

 

Elrohir smiled reassuringly. “And you thought I didn’t know that?”

 

Magolion gulped. “You knew? You knew all along?”

 

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out, Magolion,” said Elrohir calmly. “You regretted mistreating your brother, you were new to Imladris… And what parent would name their son Estenion?”

 

“Your father knows the truth as well,” admitted Magolion, “He called me on it this afternoon.”

 

“And what did my dear father say?”

 

“He would have my hide if I ever hurt you.”

 

Elrohir broke out in laugher. “Yes, that does sound like my father!” Calming down again, he chuckled softly. “I choose my own friends. Rest assured that you are one of them.” He leaned back into the comfort of the chair and sipped his tea. “Did he manage to intimidate you?”

 

“After a fashion,” replied Magolion softly. “He has every right to be cautious. I already did a lot of damage in the short time that I am in Imladris.”

 

“But you have changed.”

 

“I am trying hard to change,” confirmed Magolion, “But I still have a long way ahead of me.”

 

“But you don’t have to do it alone.”

 

A weak smile surfaced on Magolion’s face. “It is good to have a friend. You are the first one to stand by me in times of need.”

 

Elrohir cocked his head. “If you had given Erestor a fair chance when you were younger, he would have stood by you as well. Erestor is loyal, friendly and understanding, but you never realized he had those qualities. You were too busy not seeing them.”

 

Magolion hung his head in shame. “You speak the truth. I might not want to hear it, but you are right. I was too busy hating him. But that has changed,” said Magolion, straightening his shoulders and meeting Elrohir’s eyes. “I will face my mistakes and make amends where I can.”

 

Elrohir studied Magolion carefully before saying, “And what about Lindir? Will you make amends to him as well?”

 

“Lindir…” Shamefaced, Magolion stared at the floor. “I should start with him, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“I am a bit hesitant to approach him.”

 

“And why is that?” Elrohir inched a bit closer.

 

“Your father… I don’t want him to think that I am trying to… You know… Your father can be… protective,” stuttered Magolion, “I don’t want to do anything that would make him banish me from Mirkwood, and Lindir…”

 

Another chuckle escaped Elrohir. “My father *did* intimidate you!” Laughing warmly, he shook his head. “If you wish I will accompany you when you talk to Lindir. I will keep my father at bay!” He wiped away a tear of merriment that had escaped his eye. “I apologize, my friend, but my father is all bark and no bite.”

 

“I am not so sure of that,” cautioned Magolion, “He loves you and Lindir dearly, and I do think he would defend you until his last breath.”

 

“You may be right,” said Elrohir, sobering quickly, “But I will accompany you anyway for I do think you need to apologize to Lindir for the way you treated him in the past.”

 

Magolion nodded. “Tomorrow after breakfast?” Now that he had decided to do this, he wanted to get it over with.

 

“I will be there,” promised Elrohir, giving Magolion a warm smile. His feelings for the other Elf continued to deepen, but he was determined to keep them private. His father was right; now was not the time to reveal them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir had settled down in a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. Glorfindel had just left, after keeping them company for most of the evening. He liked the Elda a lot, but he had been relieved when Glorfindel had left, finally given him a moment alone with his beloved. They were still in the study as Elrond needed to sort out the border patrol’s latest report.

 

Elrond was bending over the desk, reaching for the ink pot before it would fall over and spill over the desk. Lindir's groin stirred, as the outline of Elrond’s backside was nicely outlined beneath the robes. “Oh, don’t move, love.”

 

Elrond instantly froze. “Why?” What disaster was waiting to happen that Lindir had to warn him?

 

“Perfect, my love.” Lindir quickly got to his feet and walked over to the half-Elf. Coming to a halt behind Elrond, he pressed close to the other Elf’s body, rubbing his arousal against his lover’s backside. “This is the perfect position to take you in… If you are willing.”

 

Elrond released a chuckle. “Do you desire me, then?” He coyly looked over his shoulder, seeing the lust reflected in Lindir’s green eyes.

 

“Bend over, my Lord.” Lindir involuntarily held his breath, uncertain if Elrond would indulge him. He was still testing the waters with Elrond, trying to find out where the half-Elf’s limits lay.

 

Elrond considered his lover for one moment, and then decided to play along. “As you wish, beloved, take me. Make me yours, but don’t undress us. I want you to take me clothed.”

 

Lindir raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “That will be interesting then.” Undoing the lacing to his breeches, he pushed the fabric down, allowing his erection to bob free, which already instinctively pointed at his lover’s buttocks. With his other hand, he pushed Elrond’s burgundy robes aside, reached for the waistband and pushed down his lover’s leggings. “Like this?”

 

“Yes…” Elrond panted softly. He had placed his hands on the desk to support himself, and now threw back his head, feeling Lindir’s oiled finger press inside. He briefly wondered where Lindir had gotten hold of oil that quickly, but then dismissed the thought. “Be my Lord for this evening, Lindir.”

 

Lindir smiled, leaned in closer and caught the skin of Elrond’s neck between his teeth, suckling predatorily. “And what are you, my scribe? Did I catch you going through my erotic literature without my permission?”

 

Elrond laughed warmly, but stilled, when a second finger joined the first, nicely opening him up. “Oh, yes…” Bending forward, he stood widespread, trying to better accommodate his lover. “Erotic literature, my Lord? I never knew what that was until I read…”

 

“Until what?” Lindir licked the skin he had just suckled and wrapped one arm around Elrond’s waist. “What was it you read?”

 

“The Lord of the manor was taking his scribe, who was bending over the desk, just as you are doing to me now.” Moaning needily, Elrond pushed back against Lindir, enjoying the friction the fabric caused on his skin. “Will you take me now?”

 

“Yes, I will,” promised Lindir, parting his lover’s buttocks to guide his hard flesh into the tight opening. “Can you feel me already? I will completely possess you. You are utterly at my mercy. You will beg me to let you come.”

 

Elrond’s erection painfully pressed against the desk, and he tried to curl his fingers around the hard flesh, but Lindir caught him, guiding his hand back onto the table. “Oh no, my naughty scribe. You didn’t obtain permission to touch yourself yet.”

 

Elrond’s eyes widened when Lindir started to sheath himself. It was his first time being taken in this position and Lindir felt huge inside him. But the tip of his lover’s erection rubbed his prostate in just the right way and a wave of pleasure washed over him. “I beg you, my Lord, have mercy on me!”

 

Lindir thrust for the first time, still keeping one arm folded around his lover’s waist to steady them both. “Don’t you touch yourself. I want you to come because you are feeling me inside you.” Pistoning in and out of the half-Elf’s body, Lindir caught an earlobe between his teeth and suckled it. “Are you close?”

 

“Very close, my Lord!” If only Lindir would let him touch himself! Grunting his need, he allowed Lindir to pull him upright, and he threw back his head until it rested on his lover’s shoulder. The angle in which Lindir was thrusting caused the strangest sensation in his groin and his sudden climax took him completely by surprise. Lindir, still hard inside him, briefly stopped thrusting and Elrond leaned against his lover, as his knees were turning weak.

 

“Uh, Elrond?”

 

Startled, Elrond registered Glorfindel’s voice, even whilst he was locked in the throes of his orgasm. Glorfindel stood in the doorway, a huge grin on the Elda’s exquisite features. “What… do you… want?” Elrond bit his bottom lip, feeling Lindir reach orgasm as well.

 

“I trust I am not interrupting?” said Glorfindel with an innocent expression on his face. He wished he had waited until the morning to seek Elrond out, but he had forgotten to take his journal along earlier. He had never expected to catch them in the act, but he should have known better. Their love was new and passionate and it was only natural for them to make love whenever they got the chance. “My journal, my friend, and then I will be gone.”

 

Elrond tried to compose himself, but that was difficult, as Lindir was still buried inside him. Moving cautiously, he opened the drawer, removed the journal and extended his arm to give it to Glorfindel, hoping the blond took the hint and would collect it.

 

Glorfindel decided to have mercy on them, and took the journal from Elrond, grinning triumphantly at seeing the quivers that ran through Elrond’s body. “Continue with what you are doing… I will catch you tomorrow.” After giving them a huge smirk, he closed the door behind him and made his way back to Erestor’s rooms whilst humming a merry tone he had once picked up from a Hobbit.

 

Lindir carefully pulled out. “By Elbereth, I am so glad you insisted on remaining dressed!” It would have been far more embarrassing if Glorfindel had caught them naked! Not bothering to clean up – they would do that later in Elrond’s private chambers – Lindir redid the lacing to his breeches.

 

Elrond pulled his leggings back into place and sighed. Although none of his nakedness or arousal had shown – thanks to his luxurious robes – he just knew Glorfindel had figured out what they were doing. “We will lock the door the next time we make love.” Turning around, he looked at Lindir, who was slightly flushed. “My, you surprised me, my Lord.”

 

Lindir’s flush intensified. “You told me to call you that.”

 

“You didn’t seem to mind.” Cocking his head, Elrond rested the palm of one hand against the side of Lindir’s head, kissing him gently. “I like being taken bent over the table, my love.”

 

“I was afraid I was crossing a line,” explained Lindir.

 

“Never, my lovely Lindir. “I could never get enough of making love with you. Rest assured, I loved what you did to me.” Guiding his slightly mesmerized lover into the corridor, he closed the door behind them. What they needed was a long, hot bath.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine

 

Part 18

 

Glorfindel stared thoughtfully at Magolion. Elrond had summoned them both to his study and they now sat opposite the half-Elf. Elrohir had also joined them, but the younger Peredhel was looking out of the window, preferring for his father to start this conversation.

 

Tension was heavy in the room, which came as no surprise to Elrohir, and he hoped his father knew how to deal with the two Elves.

 

“Glorfindel, Magolion,” said Elrond, taking the lead, “It is about time the two of you talked.”

 

Magolion moistened his lips. Seeing the stubborn expression in the Balrog Slayer’s eyes, he decided it was best to go first. He had rehearsed his little speech on his way here and said, “I offer you my deepest apologies for taking advantage of you when you were vulnerable. I used you to hurt Erestor, and never considered your feelings in this. You were a means to obtain my goal, and I regret hurting you in the process.” Holding his breath, nervously, he made eye contact with the blond, hoping Glorfindel would say something in turn.

 

Glorfindel gave Elrond a wondering look. The half-Elf nodded his head once and signaled with his hand for Glorfindel to speak up as well. They had discussed what the blond wanted to say over breakfast, and now Glorfindel actually had to take that step.

 

After clearing his throat, Glorfindel cautiously sought out Magolion’s eyes, feeling grateful they were green instead of chocolate brown. “It is not all your fault,” he admitted between gritted teeth. By Elbereth, it was hard to say this! A private struggle took place in his mind and it took him all his courage to continue. “I made it very easy for you to seduce me. I wasn’t fair toward you either.” Seeing Elrond nod persistently again, he mumbled, “I pretended you were Erestor.”

 

Magolion gave Glorfindel a weak smile. “You still love him, don’t you?”

 

Elrohir moved toward his father, and came to a halt behind Elrond, placing one hand on the elder half-Elf’s shoulder. The conversation was going well and he hoped no argument would come forth from it.

 

Glorfindel’s gaze momentarily turned distant and misted over. “I always have and I always will.”

 

Magolion bit his bottom lip, chewing slightly on it. “I made everything worse, didn’t it?”

 

This time it was Elrond who replied in Glorfindel’s place. “Yes, you made things worse. Erestor couldn’t watch you seduce Glorfindel and therefore he left, but…” He looked at Elrohir, wondering if his son understood as well.

 

Elrohir nodded and then took over. Usually he only knew how to end his twin’s sentences, but this time he knew exactly what his father had wanted to say. “But your actions opened Glorfindel’s eyes. He had to look inside and face his problems, whilst Erestor finally got some time and space to recover from everything he had been through with Glorfindel. Neither of them may believe this, but breaking up temporarily and working on their own issues was the best thing that could happen to them.”

 

Elrond nodded approvingly. “And all three of you will come out stronger in the end.” Looking at Glorfindel, Elrond added, “When Erestor returns to us in summer, you can apologize to him and then woo Erestor in the way he deserves. And you Magolion, you can work on obtaining his forgiveness for what you did to him in the past.”

 

Magolion nodded once, and then cast a quick look at Elrohir, who nodded encouragingly. Now that he had made his peace with Glorfindel there was someone else he should make amends to. “My Lord, I have another request.”

 

Now this was unexpected! Elrond arched an eyebrow inquisitively. “And what might that be?”

 

“I have wronged someone very close, very dear to you, and I should offer him my apologies as well, but… I am not certain you will allow me close to Lindir.” Magolion breathed a relieved sigh once he had uttered his request and he found comfort in the fact that Elrohir was smiling brilliantly at him. Until he had said the words, he hadn’t been certain he could actually voice them.

 

Elrond studied Magolion extensively. “You want to apologize to Lindir for your past behavior?”

 

Magolion nodded once. It took a lot of courage on his part to maintain eye contact with Elrond, but seeing Elrohir’s trusting expression gave him the strength he needed.

 

Glorfindel was – like Elrond – also studying Magolion, realizing this wasn’t easy for the dark-haired Elf. Maybe Elrond was right and was Magolion really trying to change his ways and redeem himself.

 

Elrond cocked his head. “I guess it is up to Lindir to decide if he wants to talk to you. I cannot decide such a thing for him.”

 

“Will you ask him?” Magolion gave Elrond a pleading look.

 

Elrond considered the matter, and then slowly nodded his head. “I will put your question to him, but I cannot guarantee he will comply.”

 

Magolion understood. “I will accept a no, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I need to try.”

 

Elrond was impressed, realizing Magolion was rather determined to ask for Lindir’s forgiveness. Being honest with himself, he had to admit he had no idea if Lindir was willing to talk to Erestor’s half-brother. /We will find out when I ask him./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“He wants to talk to *me*?” Lindir stared at his beloved in utter disbelief. Elrond had sought him out in the Hall of Fire, asking him for a moment of his time, which he had given of course. “I don’t have anything to say to him!” Lindir was growing nervous, now that Elrond had raised the subject of Magolion talking to him. “I would rather not.”

 

Elrond considered his lover. “I will respect your decision, my love, whatever that might be. But don’t you think it smart to properly deal with this part of your past?” He raised a hand and gently caressed Lindir’s face, and his lover immediately leaned into the caress, obviously craving it. “Even now I can still an echo of the pain he inflicted millennia ago. Maybe it would help you deal with his betrayal if you told him what pain his actions caused? I do think it would do both of you some good.” He wouldn’t force Lindir to face Magolion, and would respect his beloved’s decision, but he did hope Lindir would reconsider.

 

Lindir returned Elrond’s calculating look. He instinctively knew that his lover had made a valid point, but… “How can I face him? Knowing he took what he wanted, without me stopping him? I believed his promises.”

 

“You aren’t to blame. He lied to you and manipulated you.”

 

Lindir resolutely shook his head. “No, I am much like Glorfindel. I fell for his tricks and—“

 

Elrond cut his lover short, taking hold of Lindir’s arms and pulling him close. “No, don’t compare what Magolion did to you to what he did to Glorfindel! You warned Glorfindel! Glorfindel purposefully used Magolion in turn to battle his loneliness. They used each other for different reasons. What Magolion did to you was completely different. You were young and naïve. You were in love with him and you were ready to commit to him. He promised you marriage!”

 

Tears appeared in Lindir’s eyes. “You really think so?”

 

“I do, my love.” Elrond buried Lindir in a tight hug and briefly rocked him. “You should do this now. Magolion is still in my study and he hopes you will talk to him.”

 

“I cannot do this alone,” admitted Lindir.

 

“You don’t have to. I will be there for you every step of the way.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir’s knees nearly gave away beneath him when he entered Elrond’s study. Magolion was rising from his chair and Lindir immediately averted his eyes, unable to face his shame.

 

Magolion caught Lindir’s timid manner, and for the very first time he realized how badly he had hurt the minstrel all those millennia ago. He also realized he had to tread carefully if he didn’t want to chase Lindir away. “Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.”

 

Elrond gave Magolion a firm stare, telling him with his eyes to be careful where Lindir was concerned, or else the half-Elf’s wrath would follow.

 

“I don’t really want to, but Elrond convinced me it would be best.” Lindir allowed Elrond to sit him down in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace, opposite Magolion. He was relieved, finding the half-Elf was taking a seat next to him. Needing his lover’s support in this, he reached for Elrond’s hand and clasped his fingers firmly in place around it. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that Magolion didn’t know about their relationship. The dark-haired Elf had certainly quickly figured that one out. “Say what you have to say.” He wanted this over with.

 

Magolion tried to catch Lindir’s gaze, but the white-haired Elf was staring at the floor. For one moment his mind traveled back in time, and he remembered a much happier, friendlier and more open Lindir. But that had been before he had crushed Lindir’s belief in him. He knew he could never restore that trust, or befriend Lindir, but he could try to make amends. “Would you please look at me?” He kept one eye trained on Elrond, knowing the half-Elf wouldn’t hesitate to come to his lover’s defense if necessary.

 

“If I must…” Lindir hesitantly met Magolion’s eyes, and was surprised to find them warm and open, instead of narrow and cold, as he had grown accustomed to.

 

Magolion drew in a deep breath, hoping the right words would come to him. “What I did to you is unforgivable, Lindir. I lied to you, manipulated and then betrayed you. I preyed on your love and affection for me and twisted it to my benefits. I used you to hurt Erestor.”

 

Lindir’s eyes had widened during Magolion’s speech and his gaze now quickly darted to Elrond. After seeing the half-Elf nod encouragingly, he looked back at Magolion, uncertain if he was supposed to say something.

 

“I took advantage of your kind and friendly nature. When I saw you I knew I could greatly hurt Erestor by seducing you. I never considered the effects my behavior had on you.” Magolion shrugged and then decided to be brutally honest. “I was an insensitive bastard.”

 

Lindir’s widened further at hearing those words, and his hold on Elrond’s hand tightened, but he still remained quiet.

 

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I won’t ask for it now, but I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me my foul deeds one day in the future.” Magolion’s features briefly contorted. “I know you have found new love with Lord Elrond and the last thing I want to do is to bring ugly memories into the present, but… I want you to know that I realize I hurt you deeply.”

 

“I… I don’t know what to say,” admitted Lindir in a tiny tone, catching Elrond’s gaze once more. He had never expected Magolion to say those things to him!

 

Elrond nodded encouragingly. “Tell him what you told me.”

 

Lindir swallowed hard and trembled, addressing Magolion. “I told Elrond that I thought it was my fault too. I believed you so very easily. I thought you loved me, and that you wanted to marry me. Never once did I consider you were using me.” He drew in a deep breath. “Erestor told me not to trust you, but I was madly in love with you.”

 

A knowing glance was exchanged between Elrond and Magolion. In the end, Magolion leaned in closer, addressing Lindir in turn. “You aren’t to blame, Lindir. You couldn’t possibly know that I was purposefully setting you up – using you. You were in love with me, and I was too blind and too hate driven to realize how precious a gift your love would have been, had I accepted it.” Lindir’s swimming eyes met his, and Magolion wished he had realized earlier the damage he had done to Erestor and his brother’s loved ones. Lindir had carried this pain much too long. “It wasn’t your fault, Lindir. I used you. You thought I loved you in turn and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.” Emphasizing each word, he said, “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

Lindir offered Elrond a wavering smile. “That’s what you said.”

 

“It is the truth,” stated Elrond calmly.

 

Lindir was finally beginning to understand he had wallowed in self-loathing for much too long, and unnecessarily. Making hesitantly eye contact with Magolion, he stuttered, “I… think I will be able to… forgive you one day, but… it is still ... fresh.”

 

Magolion nodded once. “I understand, Lindir. I am already grateful that you agreed to talk to me, that you were willing to hear me.”

 

Offering Magolion a weak smile as well, Lindir nervously squirmed on his chair. “Thank you for telling me.”

 

Elrond smiled, pleased that they had finally addressed this matter. Hopefully the burden that Lindir had carried for so long was gone from his shoulders now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor wasn’t pleased at all. Yes, Celeborn had had his roof fixed, but he now was unable to fall asleep. For some reason his thoughts returned to sharing Mithrandir’s bed, feeling safe and cherished with the Istar close. He had searched his feelings, and reached the conclusion that he was definitely not in love with the Wizard, which had come as a relief, for he still wanted to be with Glorfindel. What he felt for Mithrandir differed greatly from his feelings for Glorfindel.

 

He had never known his father, had never had a father figure in his life, and now Mithrandir seemed to be quickly taking that place, which greatly surprised him, considering he had always felt intimidated around the Wizard. Rolling onto his other side, he angrily stared at the wall. There would be no restful sleep for him tonight. Maybe he would even sleepwalk again.

 

When Mithrandir had told him about tending to Glorfindel in his dream at night, he had been startled. He hadn’t realized just how deep the damage ran. And now he was alone with his thoughts and pain again. What he really wanted was to return to Mithrandir’s side and listen to the Wizard snore softly. The sound had soothed him these last few nights. But he could hardly invade Mithrandir’s privacy now that his roof had been fixed. What was he supposed to do?

 

Tossing and turning some more, he ended up facing the doorway. When he strained his hearing, he could hear Mithrandir snore softly in the other room. Oh, he would give everything to be close to the Istar instead of being alone in his room. Maybe he could pretend he was sleepwalking again? Mithrandir wouldn’t send him back to his room, would he?

 

But could he perform the sleepwalking act satisfactory? What if Mithrandir realized the truth, ridiculed him, and sent him back? But no, something told him that Mithrandir was too compassionate to act in such a way.

 

Pushing down the covers, he sat upright in bed. He was slowly going insane in here, all by himself. He didn’t really have a choice, did he?

 

Erestor got to his feet, and gathered his courage. /He won’t send me away. Mithrandir isn’t like that./ He had learned that much during these last few days.

 

Now the next problem presented itself, how was he to successfully act like a sleepwalker? In the end, he simply began walking, leaving his room, and then entering Mithrandir’s. Judging by the continuing snore, the Wizard was sound asleep, and he tiptoed over to the bed, careful to remain soundless. Erestor lay down on the covers, rolled onto his left so he was staring at Mithrandir’s back and then smiled contentedly. Relieved that the Istar hadn’t noticed him slipping into bed, his troubled mind was soothed and he fell into a restful sleep within a few minutes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once Mithrandir was certain that his son was deeply asleep, he turned onto his other side to study Erestor. Where he had expected to see deep lines of worry, he found none. Instead a smile had surfaced on his son’s face. /He feels safe with me./ Mithrandir felt proud, knowing he had managed to establish this tight bound in only a few days. After casting a minor sleeping spell on his son to give Erestor pleasant dreams, he raised his right hand and smoothed back a wayward, raven strand.

 

“You will be fine eventually, Erestor,” he mumbled privately. “You are very strong and will learn how to deal with Glorfindel’s problems. And in the meantime I will be here for you to soothe your thoughts.” Carefully, he placed a parental kiss on Erestor’s brow, wishing he had created this connection millennia ago. “But at least I managed now.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Erestor? A letter from Imladris arrived for you today.” Galadriel smiled warmly and handed him the letter. “I have the feeling it might be from Glorfindel.”

 

Erestor swallowed nervously and stared at the paper in his hand. Yes, the letter carried Elrond’s seal, but it was Glorfindel’s handwriting on the front. “Thank you,” he whispered, trying to smile in turn, but he merely managed a confused half-smile.

 

“I will leave you alone,” said Galadriel, understanding the emotional turmoil Erestor was in. “I do hope that you will join us for dinner tonight.”

 

“I will be there,” mumbled Erestor, absentmindedly, staring at the letter in mounting apprehension.

 

Galadriel left, and Erestor walked further away from the royal talan in need of some privacy. In the end, he located a private spot near the lake, where he sat down on the grass. His fingers trembled when they opened the letter and he slowly unfolded the paper, afraid to read what Glorfindel had committed to the ever patient parchment.

 

#My dear Erestor,

 

/Dear? Dear Erestor?/ Erestor arched an eyebrow. It had been quite some time since Glorfindel had expressed any feelings of friendship, let alone affection for him.

 

I would have written you weeks ago, but Elrond cautioned me not to. You see, I have been doing a lot of soul searching, trying to deal with my inner demons.

 

Erestor’s eyes widened. Glorfindel was searching his soul and dealing with his inner demons? Oh, he had met them first-hand when taking care of the blond during the nights, when those demons really haunted his lover. /But if he is really making an effort to deal with his problems, it is a start./ He had tried for many years to make Glorfindel face his demons, but the blond had simply waved the idea away. /Maybe now he is ready to tackle them./ He certainly hoped so!

 

I find it hard, facing my fears, my failures and my hopes, but I couldn’t continue to run away any longer. Your departure made me look inside my soul and what I found staring back at me was ugly.

 

Erestor’s eyes filled with tears, realizing how hard writing this letter had been on Glorfindel. /I am sorry I left you, my love, but I was losing myself, trying to be there for you. I wished I could have been there for you when you needed me, but I had to take care of myself first./

 

I have been refusing to deal with my past and my fears for far too long and I am afraid you paid the price for my cowardice. But please know that I am trying hard to deal with my problems now.

 

I am writing you this letter to let you know that your efforts to get through to me haven’t been in vain. And I want to thank you for your love and support throughout the years and the long nights in which my nightmares haunted me.

 

His hands shook fiercely. Never before had Glorfindel expressed his gratitude, thanked him for staying at his side during those long and dark nights. Hot tears of regret and need dripped from his face, landing with a soft plop on the paper. He quickly wiped them away, not wanting the ink to smear due to his tears.

 

I am not sure if I should even mention this – and if Elrond tells me to take this out, I will – but I still love you.

 

“Oh, Glorfindel, I love you too! I never stopped loving you!” Erestor didn’t care if someone was close and could hear him. He just needed to get this out now!

 

I was just terribly afraid to say it aloud and to commit to you. Everyone I ever loved left me and I was afraid the Valar would take you away from me the moment I committed to you. I now begin to see the folly of my past actions and I am hoping that you can forgive me.

 

It was true, Erestor knew that much. Everyone Glorfindel had ever cared for had died. That night in Gondolin his lover had lost everyone, everything, even his own life.

 

I would ask of you to wait for me – until I have defeated these demons – but I lost that right when I turned away from you when you cried during those lonely nights. Just know that you are always in my thoughts, and that I still carry my love for you in my heart.

 

“Wait for you?” Erestor stared at the letter through a haze of tears. “Of course I will wait for you! You own my heart, you stubborn Balrog Slayer! And you still love me…. Oh, Glorfindel, I never stopped loving you!” Erestor trembled fiercely, his emotions getting the better of him.

 

Please forgive me for the pain I caused you,

 

“You are forgiven, my love,” whispered Erestor softly, knowing he had to write back, let Glorfindel know that all wasn’t lost yet. They could work through their problems and find a way to deal with them!

 

In love,

 

Glorfindel. #

 

Unashamed, Erestor let his tears flow. “Oh, Glorfindel. Why did it take me leaving Imladris for you to understand? Why couldn’t you realize this before I left?”

 

Orophin advanced on the crying raven-haired Elf timidly, because he didn’t want to disturb Erestor. “Is something amiss? Can I help?” He had heard the sobbing and had become concerned finding Erestor clutching a piece of paper. Coming to a halt in front of the dark-haired Elf, he tried to catch the other’s gaze. “Erestor?”

 

Erestor forced himself to smile and waved Orophin’s concern away. “These are mostly tears of happiness, my friend.” Folding the letter, he tucked it into one of his pockets. Tonight he would sit down and write back, telling Glorfindel to take all the time he needed and that he would wait for his lover to sort out his problems. “’Tis good news.”

 

Orophin smiled weakly, finding it hard to believe that Erestor was crying because he was happy. Seeing the animated, nervous state the advisor was in, he felt it would be best if he stayed close. “Would you like to join me for a walk?”

 

Erestor nodded his head once. He was in the mood for company, and Mithrandir would talk to Celeborn and Galadriel for most of the day, so Orophin’s company was more than welcome. /And maybe I can find a way to get Elladan and Orophin together. How hard can that be?/ “Lead on, my friend. Show me ‘Lórien’s most charming spots.”

 

Erestor was happy. Glorfindel still loved him and was trying to sort out his problems. They might have a future together after all.

 

Beta read by Sulien.  
All remaining mistakes are mine.

Part 19 

 

 

Elladan was growing frustrated. He was sitting in on Mithrandir’s meeting with his grandparents, but quickly realized there was little he could contribute to the conversation, as most necessary measures had already been taken, and his thoughts began to drift off toward Orophin. The silver-haired, hazel-eyed Galadhel was never far out of his thoughts, and he wished he was spending time with Orophin, instead of being a living statue during this meeting.

 

Celeborn cleared his throat, seeing Elladan’s absentminded expression. Were all of the youngsters suffering from heartbreak? /I wonder who the subject of Elladan’s affection is./ He wanted to see his grandson happy, and he planned on talking to Elladan later.

 

The coughing sound woke Elladan from his musings and he straightened his shoulders, giving his grandfather an apologetic smile.

 

“Why don’t you take a break from this meeting, Elladan? Maybe you can spend some time with Erestor, or practice your fighting skills with one of my sentries?” Celeborn carefully monitored his grandson’s reaction to his words. “Maybe Rúmil or Orophin can spar with you?” He clearly noticed the sparkle that appeared in Elladan’s eyes when he mentioned Orophin’s name. /Ah, that’s the way it is./ Well, he couldn’t blame Elladan for falling for the silver-haired sentry. Orophin was a valiant warrior, as well as a compassionate Elf. “Be off then.” He caught his wife’s puzzled expression, but waited until Elladan had left the room to address Galadriel, and indirectly Mithrandir. “Elladan is in love.”

 

Galadriel smiled and inclined her head. “With one of our sons?” As far as she was concerned, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin were her children, even though she hadn’t given birth to them.

 

Mithrandir shook his head. What was it about ‘Lórien that seemed to induce love and desire? Looking at Celeborn and Galadriel, and seeing the love they bore each other, he realized he had found the answer. Their love warmed their realm. /I hope I am old enough to be spared the folly of the young of heart./ He had better concentrate on helping his son heal.

 

“Orophin,” said Celeborn confidently. Galadriel gave him a curious look, and he smiled warmly. “I must say Orophin would be a good match for Elladan.”

 

Galadriel considered her husband’s words. “We should inquire if Orophin feels the same way then.”

 

Mithrandir cleared his throat. “Aren’t you moving rather fast? You don’t even know for certain…”

 

Celeborn interrupted the Istar. “Respectfully, Mithrandir, but we are responsible for Elladan’s happiness while he stays in the Golden Wood.”

 

Mithrandir smiled fondly. “I knew there was a reason why I like the two of you.” The Valar help Elladan and Orophin if the royal couple was set on getting them together! He was certain they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer if both Elves had feelings for each other!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Orophin had lost track of time, talking to Erestor about Elladan. When he had first realized Erestor knew of his love for the half-Elf, he had felt hesitant to discuss the matter, but the dark-haired Elf had cunningly steered their conversation and he was now passionately talking about Elladan, and his love for the Peredhel.

 

Erestor smiled, pleased that Orophin was confiding in him. “My friend, why won’t you tell him? He loves you in turn!”

 

The first time that Erestor had insisted that Elladan returned his feelings, Orophin had frozen – shocked. But Erestor had said so many times since then and he was now growing accustomed to being reassured. “I wish I could, but he is Lord Elrond’s heir and it wouldn’t be proper for me, a mere sentry, to—“

 

Erestor cut him short. “I will take this matter into my own hands. The next time I talk to Elladan—“

 

“No!” Orophin pleadingly stared at the dark-haired advisor. “Erestor, don’t!”

 

“Oh, but I will,” said Erestor smugly. “It is about time the two of you stopped dancing around each other. Leave the matter to me.” He grinned, seeing Orophin’s shocked expression. “The two of you will be very happy.”

 

Orophin shook his head, trying to change Erestor’s mind. Just when he was about to speak up again, a strange sound coming from behind them caught his attention. Spinning around, he took an experimental sniff of the air, and his eyes widened in frightful realization. “Orcs!” And he had left his weapons at home, not thinking he would be involved in any fighting today! A quick look revealed that Erestor wasn’t carrying any weapons either. They were an easy target for preying Orcs, unarmed as they were.

 

Erestor caught the smell of the foul beasts as well, and read Orophin’s worried expression correctly. “We are defenseless!”

 

Orophin was about to suggest that they take to the trees, when the first Orc stormed toward them, sword raised for an attack. Orophin managed to block the first blow by jerking the Orc around at his arm, but then a second and a third Orc appeared, which headed toward Erestor. “Run!”

 

But the dark-haired advisor wasn’t inclined to leave Orophin in such a predicament and tried his best to fight off the attackers, but without weapons they were quickly overwhelmed and thrown onto the ground. Rage built inside him, trying to remember every defensive move Glorfindel had ever taught him. His lover had been surprised to learn that he was actually an accomplished warrior and Erestor could hold his own against his enemies, but taking on five Orcs at the same time was too much even for him.

 

“Stop fighting us!” roared the leader of the Orcs, who was holding a sharp knife against Orophin’s throat.

 

The silver-haired sentry was frustrated now that three Orcs were holding him down, after he had received numerous cuts from their sharp blades. “Erestor, don’t listen to—“ He was silenced when one of the Orcs struck the back of his head with the butt end of his sword. Orophin quickly passed out, growing motionless beneath his assailants.

 

Erestor continued to fight them for a few more moments, determined not to give in without a proper fight, but when something hit his right temple hard, his vision darkened and he lost consciousness as well. His last thought was; /Glorfindel will never forgive me for making it so easy for them to catch us./ And the horrible thing was, he hadn’t even had the chance to write back, assuring the blond he still loved him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Where are Imladris’ reinforcements? Celeborn’s Galadhrim?” Thranduil paced, feeling the eyes of his soldiers on him. They had been defending their borders against an immense wave of countless spiders, and many of his men had suffered fatal injuries. Although he had developed an antidote against the spiders’ poison long ago, it had to be administered immediately for it to work. And his men were fighting on all fronts, losing touch with him and his command staff. How was he supposed to keep his realm safe when he only had about fifty warriors left?

 

For one moment he was immensely relieved that Legolas wasn’t here with him. Maybe his son would escape the spiders’ onslaught and survive.

 

“Sire? There are more spiders approaching from the west, accompanied by several packs of Orcs.” The soldier didn’t want to deliver this bad news to his already exhausted ruler, but didn’t have a choice.

 

Thranduil sighed deeply, knowing his decimated army wouldn’t stand a chance against more spiders, but he drew his sword and roared a battle cry to motivate his men. He would die fighting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haldir was surprised when Legolas didn’t assume control the moment they met up with the reinforcements. Elrond’s guards had already joined the Galadhrim, and their commanding officer, who lacked battle experience, gladly gave up command to Haldir.

 

Looking to his right, Haldir found that Legolas was growing restless. The Woodland Elf was biting his bottom lip in frustration and everything about the blond screamed impatience and worry. Haldir had caught Legolas when the Sindarin Elf had tried to leave the main group, calling him back, as he didn’t want to search for Legolas.

 

“We will reach your father in time,” Haldir said soothingly, almost certain that Legolas was so edgy because he fretted about Thranduil. /Thranduil must be a better father than I thought for Legolas to be this worried./ To be honest, he expected Thranduil to be arrogant and power-driven, like most of the tales made him out to be. Legolas had tried to convince him that those tales were exaggerated.

 

“I can sense his distress,” mumbled Legolas, seriously worried for his father’s safety. Seeing Haldir’s puzzled expression, he explained. “My father and I always shared a very close bond. I can sense his worry, his fear that he will fail to protect the few females and children we have left.”

 

Haldir searched the darkening sky. Night was quickly falling over the land, and although they were close to Fuinglad, he had planned to rest for one hour. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore, seeing Legolas’ tormented expression. Instead of calling for a rest, he increased their speed. Legolas gave him a thankful look, which made Haldir’s heart beat a little faster.

 

“We should reach the border in another hour,” said Legolas, wishing he was back at his father’s side again. He could feel Thranduil’s need of them.

 

“We will continue to travel at this speed,” said Haldir, reassuringly. He hated seeing his love in such distress. “Why don’t you tell me what to expect?”

 

Legolas briefly shivered. “Angry, venomous spiders and ravaging packs of Orcs.” After giving Haldir a worried look, he continued, “We left our telain some time ago and are forced to live in the caves. We hate to dwell there, but it is the only place where we are relatively safe from the spiders.”

 

Haldir looked at his troops over his shoulder. “Are we strong enough to take out the enemy?”

 

“I hope so,” said Legolas, sighing. “Much depends on the number of spiders that are attacking my father, and how many of his soldiers are left.” Legolas tried hard not to give in to the depressive feeling that was quickly overwhelming him.

 

Haldir moistened his lips and then boldly rested a hand on Legolas’ shoulder, hoping the touch would somehow calm the worried Woodland Elf. “We will do our best to drive the enemy away.”

 

Legolas gave Haldir a grateful look and managed a weak smile, appreciating the touch that was meant to soothe him. “I know you will.”

 

Haldir’s heart missed a beat when Legolas suddenly doubled over. Legolas released a tormented groan and the blond momentarily swayed in the saddle. Using the hold he already had on Legolas’ shoulder, Haldir quickly steadied his secret love. “What is amiss?”

 

“My father…” Panting in obvious pain, Legolas raised his eyes and met Haldir’s hazel ones. “He is wounded… Growing weaker.” Involuntarily, he was clutching his left side. “One of the spiders… or an Orc… He is seriously injured.”

 

Haldir acted at once, raised a hand and called to his troops to speed up, as they couldn’t waste any time. If Thranduil was wounded – maybe even mortally so – the Mirkwood soldiers faced losing their leader and chaos could ensue. He had to prevent that from happening. “Can you keep up with us?” He didn’t want to leave Legolas behind, but reaching Thranduil as quickly as possible was his first priority.

 

Legolas’ jaw was set firmly in grim determination. The pain was fading and he nodded once. “I will keep up with you.” His need to see his father overwhelmed him and he pushed his heels into his horse’s flanks, speeding away from Haldir.

 

Haldir followed at once, determined to not let Legolas out of his sight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haldir froze momentarily, unexpectedly finding himself in the midst of huge, black spiders and hideous Orcs. They had ridden for another hour before arriving on the battlefield and now he began to shout his orders, directing his men to the places where they were needed the most. A gigantic spider suddenly towered over him, and he raised his bow to aim his arrows, but one of the legs already swayed toward him.

 

A shower of arrows stopped the creature. Two arrows buried themselves in the beady black eyes, and for one moment the beast staggered, before crashing onto the grass. One look to his right revealed that Legolas had released the arrows and he inclined his head in gratitude.

 

Legolas nodded in turn and then turned around, needing to find his father. Concentrating on the bond that had connected them since his birth, he released a deep breath, realizing his father was still alive, although terribly weakened. That could only mean one thing; his father was fighting off the spider’s poison.

 

Steering his horse cunningly between the spiders’ legs, he finally managed to reach his father. Thranduil still stood on his own two feet, but dark blood was running down his left side, and his father was clutching the injury tightly. Yet, Thranduil still managed to command his men, calling out orders.

 

Legolas quickly slipped from his horse’s back and fought himself a way to his father’s side, killing the Orcs that were stupid enough to block his path.

 

Haldir’s gaze swept over the battlefield, changing his orders when the spiders regrouped for another attack. Presenting a strong front with his troops, they now charged as well, buying the exhausted Mirkwood Elves some much needed time. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Legolas, who was determinedly fighting to clear a way to another blond Elf, whom Haldir assumed to be Thranduil. Seeing the blood on the Elf’s leather uniform, he realized this was the King all right, as the injury was located in the exact place where Legolas had clutched his side earlier.

 

One Orc tried to pull him from his horse, but he decapitated the foul creature, directing his troops to momentary victory. It was apparent that the spiders and Orcs hadn’t been expecting any reinforcements and the beasts now retreated. Haldir called out to his warriors to regroup. Several sentries were already following the enemy to keep an eye on them in case they decided to carry out a surprise attack. After telling his men to look after their injured Woodland comrades, he turned his steed around, knowing he had to report to Thranduil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil stared at his son in disbelief. “Legolas?” But no, Legolas couldn’t be here!

 

“Yes, it is me, Ada,” said Legolas, hoping to reassure his father. He had gained a tight hold on Thranduil, who was about to collapse due to his injuries. A nasty sword cut disfigured his father’s side and he could tell by the angry red lines beneath Thranduil’s skin that the antidote was trying to fight off the spider’s venom. “You need to sit down and let me tend to your wounds.” He slowly lowered his father onto the grass.

 

“No, you need to look after our soldiers first, the few that are left of our troops. The spiders were too powerful and nearly rolled right over us.” Thranduil panted hard and bit down the agony that was washing over him. The spider’s venom was powerful and the antidote needed time to counteract it.

 

“Haldir has assumed command of our troops,” said Legolas soothingly, ripping shreds from his riding cloak to bind his father’s wound with. “You need to see a healer.”

 

“There aren’t many of them left,” whispered Thranduil in obvious pain. “And they should see to our troops first.”

 

“Legolas?” Haldir had dismounted and now stood in front of them. Studying Thranduil’s injuries, he was relieved they weren’t mortal. “Our troops are watching the enemy, which is retreating. I advise not to linger here, but to take the wounded into safety. I will leave a strong regiment here to fight off the spiders if they do decide to return.”

 

Thranduil managed to get a good look at Haldir’s face, which wasn’t easy as pain clouded his vision. “Who are you?”

 

“Haldir of ‘Lórien,” he said proudly. “My Lord Celeborn put me in command of the reinforcements.” Haldir wasn’t sure how he expected Thranduil to react to that.

 

Legolas saw his father’s distress and reacted before Thranduil could. “Haldir, will you look after my father whilst I check on the injured?”

 

Thranduil nodded his head weakly. “Yes, see to our troops first.”

 

Haldir was surprised to find out just how concerned Thranduil was for his men’s well-being and Legolas’ warning returned to him. Maybe Legolas had spoken the truth and Thranduil was reasonable after all.

 

Thranduil caught Legolas’ right hand and squeezed it. “Assume command, Legolas. You know these woods best. Make sure the wounded are taken to the caves and call for the healers to attend to them. Show Haldir’s troops where the spiders are most likely to sneak past the guards and…” Thranduil sucked in his breath when Legolas tightly bandaged his wounded side to stop the blood loss.

 

“I will take good care of them,” promised Legolas, worried now that his father was slowly losing consciousness. Thranduil was a strong and determined Elf and to see him in such agony, caused him anguish in turn. He held his father close until Thranduil’s eyes grew empty. The elder Elf had finally fallen into a healing sleep. “Haldir?” Looking at the silver-haired Elf, he signaled for the other to kneel beside him. “Take good care of him for me?”

 

Haldir protested the decision. “Wouldn’t it be best if you looked after him?”

 

Legolas nodded once and looked fondly at Thranduil. “You are right, but he is right too. I know these lands best. I know where to station the guards. I should do this.”

 

Haldir gave in when realizing how much trust Legolas was placing in him by asking him to look after Thranduil. Legolas could have asked any of the Woodland Elves that were now swarming around them in concern, but no, Legolas had asked *him*!” Maybe this was his chance to gain Legolas’ respect and affection. “Go, then.”

 

Legolas found it hard to leave his father’s side, but when he saw Haldir cradling Thranduil’s motionless form against him, he rose from the ground and walked away to direct his troops. His heart remained with his father though, knowing Thranduil was hurting badly and he thanked the Valar for bestowing a blessed sleep on him.

 

Haldir watched Legolas leave, his heart heavy with the loss the Woodland Elves had suffered. One of Thranduil’s warriors placed a warm cloak over his ruler and Haldir nodded approvingly, lifting the unconscious form from the cold earth, where a small pool of blood had formed beneath Thranduil. “Show me the way to the caves.” He would keep his word and take care of the elder Elf.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Orcs! Orcs invaded my realm!” Celeborn’s eyes flared with silver anger at that realization.

 

At the same time, Mithrandir jumped to his feet, his hair flying wildly around him and a distraught expression on his face. “Erestor! My son!” His eyes revealed concern and fear for the dark-haired Elf’s well-being. He was grateful that the royal couple knew that Erestor was his son. At least now he could release his worry and pour his feelings into words. “They captured him!”

 

“And Orophin,” whispered Galadriel, shocked. Looking at her husband, she found that Celeborn was already reaching out with his mind, searching for the intruders and sending out several sentries to stop the Orcs from abducting the two Elves. But what if they were too late?

 

“I must go to him!” Mithrandir leaned heavily on his staff, and was about to storm out of the room when a dark mist seeped through the walls and into the room. The black fog curled around them, holding them in place and making sure they couldn’t take any action.

 

Time froze in the Golden Wood, allowing Sauron’s minions the time they needed to flee Lothlórien.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magolion was on his way to Elrohir’s rooms to join the half-Elf for dinner when he ran into a fully armed Glorfindel. The blond’s stare was set in the distance, and his hands spasmodically opened and closed. Startled – even worried for the fair-headed Elf’s mental state – Magolion approached him carefully. The fact that Glorfindel was carrying hunting knives, bow, a quiver filled with arrows, sword and a small axe were more than enough reason for him to act cautiously!

 

“Glorfindel?” Although they had reached a fragile truce that day in Elrond’s study, he hadn’t talked to Glorfindel since and he wasn’t sure how the Elf would react to encountering him unexpectedly. “Glorfindel!”

 

Glorfindel stopped in his tracks, spun around and actually growled at him! Magolion involuntarily took a step back, but then composed himself. A real warrior faced his fears! Even if that meant facing a vicious looking Balrog Slayer. “Glorfindel? What is amiss?”

 

Another growl left Glorfindel’s lips. Truly alarmed now, Magolion set aside any fear, and faced the blond. He placed a firm hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder and he shivered at the feral expression in the blazing eyes. “What is wrong?”

 

“Erestor needs me,” managed Glorfindel in a growling tone. “And you aren’t stopping me!” He moved to shake off Magolion’s hand, but suddenly the dark-haired Elf established a tight hold on him, keeping him from leaving. “Let me go!”

 

“Not before I know what is happening to you.” Determinedly, Magolion pulled Glorfindel with him, grateful that they were only feet away from Elrohir’s rooms. “Elrohir, open the door!”

 

Elrohir hurried to comply, wondering why Magolion sounded that alarmed. “What…?” There was no need to finish that question, as the wild look in Glorfindel’s eyes was an answer in itself. “By Elbereth, what has gotten in to you, my old friend?”

 

Magolion resolutely pushed Glorfindel into Elrohir’s rooms and closed the door behind him. He hoped Elrohir would take the hint and question the blond’s armed state. Elrohir didn’t disappoint him.

 

“Why are you fully armed, Glorfindel?” Elrohir involuntarily shuddered, seeing the warning expression on the blond’s face. Glorfindel meant business and wouldn’t allow them to detain him much longer.

 

“Erestor… He called to me… He needs me!” Glorfindel had no intention of explaining himself to them and started for the doorway again, but this time it was Elrohir who kept him back.

 

“No, tell me more!” Elrohir was puzzled. How could Erestor possibly call out to Glorfindel? The two Elves missed the necessary bond to do so!

 

“I don’t know what happened. I just know that he called out to me. He is in pain and needs me. I am heading for Lothlórien and you won’t stop me!” He nearly barked the words, challenging them to defy him. “Let me pass! You won’t keep me apart from him any longer!” His tone rose, taking on an alarming panicky edge.

 

“You are in no state to ride for the Golden Wood!” objected Elrohir. Exchanging a worried look with Magolion, he wondered what course of action would be best. “Let me talk to my father and –“

 

“No, I cannot waste any time! I need to leave now!” Glorfindel tried to push Elrohir out of his way, but the half-Elf was built solidly and it wasn’t easy to move him. Elrohir stood blocking his path, and Glorfindel was growing enraged. “Don’t you understand? He is in pain!”

 

Magolion, who had become an observer, now spoke up. “Maybe I should stay close to Glorfindel whilst you talk to your father? You can always send a patrol after us.” He was loathe to let the blond leave in his current, confused state of mind.

 

But Elrohir shook his head. He wasn’t inclined to let Glorfindel out of his sight, and Magolion wasn’t a healer. If the blond got himself into trouble and became injured, Glorfindel would need a healer close. “Let me write my father a note.”

 

“Hurry!” Glorfindel immediately moved toward the doorway now that Elrohir had walked over to his desk to write a note. But now he found Magolion blocking the doorway. “Don’t you dare stand in my path!”

 

Magolion looked at Elrohir, found that the half-Elf had finished the note and stepped aside.

 

Glorfindel hurried out of the room, with Elrohir and Magolion in tow. He didn’t know what possessed him to act in such a rude manner. All he knew was that Erestor needed him. The call had come about half an hour ago. He had been writing in his journal when pain had crashed into his mind, almost tearing his skull apart. Then Erestor’s voice had come – distant and pleading – and he had risen from behind his desk to arm himself. He had stormed out of his quarters with only one goal in mind; to travel to the Golden Wood and rescue his beloved from whatever evil that had befallen him, and no one – no one – would stand in his way. Not even his friends.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 20

 

Asfaloth sensed Glorfindel’s need for an immediate departure and was quick to obey the Elf’s command to take to the road leading away from Imladris. Close behind followed Magolion and Elrohir, who continued to share concerned looks.

 

Although Magolion really didn’t know Glorfindel that well, he could tell that this wasn’t typical behavior for the golden-haired Elf. Elrohir’s shocked expression told him that much. Although the pace Glorfindel set was grueling, he managed to lean in to whisper some words. “Elrohir, what is wrong with him? Have you ever seen him act like this before?”

 

“Only once,” whispered Elrohir, who was equally upset. “When we happened upon my mother after the Orcs injured her.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Puzzled that three Elves had been missing at dinner, Elrond decided to look for Elrohir first. Deep down in his heart, he still worried that his son would reveal his feelings for Magolion too soon, and that Erestor’s half-brother would revert back to his old ways. He had to make sure his son was all right.

 

After knocking on the door to Elrohir’s rooms, and receiving no answer, he slowly opened the door, and stepped inside. Finding the rooms empty, his confusion mounted, until he saw the note on the desk. He had taught his sons a long time ago to let him know where they were headed if they decided to depart unexpectedly. Where was Elrohir headed now?

 

Elrond picked up the note and terror wrapped itself around his heart.

 

#Adar, Glorfindel insists Erestor needs him. He is determined to travel to the Golden Wood and Magolion and I are going with him to keep him safe. I will try to farspeak with you later.#

 

The piece of paper dropped from his fingers and he quickly picked it up again, staring at it in shock and desperately hoping he had misread. “The roads aren’t safe, pen-neth,” he whispered, concerned. “Why did you leave?” But at least Elrohir wasn’t alone out there.

 

Should that reassure him, though? Judging by the note, Glorfindel’s mental state was worrisome to say the least and they had joined the blond to make sure no harm came to him. Yes, he would farspeak with Elrohir as quickly as possible and urge his son to return to Imladris. It was bad enough that Elladan had left his home, but now Elrohir was gone as well. His sons had both left Imladris, which left him wringing his hands in worry.

 

After tucking the note into his sleeve, he left his son’s room, eager to seek out Lindir and confide in his lover. He needed his lover close.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When time liquidized again in the Golden Wood, Mithrandir found that several hours had passed by. “This is Sauron’s work,” he called out in distress. “He stopped us from following Erestor and Orophin! They now have several hours of head start!”

 

Celeborn released a deep sigh, moving gingerly after having been frozen in time. “I dispatched several sentries before Sauron’s evil reached us. Don’t give up hope yet, my old friend.” Celeborn headed for the doorway and called for his commanding officers, quickly realizing everyone residing in the talan had been affected by the dark sorcery. The first person he ran into was Rúmil, who was clearly distressed.

 

“My Lord, what happened just now?” Rúmil’s pleading eyes met his ruler’s. “It was morn only a moment ago and now it is the dark of night!”

 

“Something terrible has happened,” said Celeborn, wondering how to break the bad news to Rúmil. His grandson suddenly rounded around the corner and came to a halt in front of him.

 

“Something feels off,” declared the half-Elf in a troubled tone.

 

“This is Sauron’s doing!” Celeborn signaled for them to follow; a plan clearly taking shape in his mind. “Elladan, I want you to take a regiment of my men and to find the Orcs that invaded our lands. If need be, follow them to Dol Guldur!”

 

Elladan’s eyes widened. “Ata’da?”

 

Celeborn turned around, realizing he had to tell them the truth, but he was afraid of their reaction. Gathering a hand from Rúmil and Elladan in his, he looked at them in turn. “Something terrible has happened.”

 

“You already said that!” Elladan unsuccessfully fought his growing apprehension.

 

“’Tis Erestor and Orophin. The Orcs captured them and Sauron made sure they escaped the Golden Wood before any of our sentries could get to them. I can barely sense their presence. They already crossed our borders and it seems they are heading for Sauron’s stronghold. You have to free them and bring them back.” Only now did he fully understand what had happened in his once safe realm.

 

“Orophin? And Erestor?” Elladan’s heart missed a beat. “They took Orophin?” His sweet Orophin? No!

 

“Yes,” said Celeborn, his heart going out to his grand son. “I know you love him, Elladan, and that is why I am sending you – and Rúmil of course – to free them. Why are you standing here wasting precious time? Get moving!” A warrior himself, he wished he could accompany them, but his place was here in the Golden Wood.

 

Elladan shook himself from his worry and panic, and bared his teeth as a sign that he was more than ready to face the enemy. “I will find them, Ata’da. I promise!” Elladan gave Rúmil’s a meaning full look, promising the Galadhel that they would rescue Orophin and Erestor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Mithrandir?” Galadriel watched her old friend’s frantic movements with concern. “What are you doing?” Seeing him head for the doorway, she quickly followed. “Where are you going?”

 

Mithrandir didn’t stop to answer her, still leaving the royal talan. When Galadriel caught up with him, he finally addressed her, but never slowed down. “My son is in danger and that is my fault.”

 

“Yours?” Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly. “You would never endanger your son!”

 

“Not willingly,” said Mithrandir softly, “But I was careless when I helped him release his powers. I should have contained them, shielded him, but I didn’t and Sauron must have noticed his rise to power and sent his minions to capture him!” Mithrandir was angry with himself for being this careless. His son’s life was at stake here!

 

“Are you certain this is about Erestor?” ventured Galadriel. “Orophin was taken as well.”

 

Mithrandir gave her a quick look. “Sauron is as cunning as he is evil. He wouldn’t hesitate to use Orophin to make Erestor comply.”

 

Galadriel drew in an alarmed breath. “Do you really think that?”

 

Now Mithrandir did pause, sending out his mind in search of his son. He found Erestor alive and reasonably well. At the moment his son was conscious, but in pain. “I don’t have the time to discuss this now!” Calling for Shadowfax, who hadn’t strayed far during his stay in the Golden Wood, Mithrandir made out Elladan and Rúmil’s form, heading a regiment of Galadhrim, doubtlessly acting on Celeborn’s orders to bring the kidnapped Elves back. It would be best if they bundled their strength and rode together.

 

Galadriel had no choice but to let Mithrandir mount Shadowfax and she watched the Istar join her grandson’s regiment. Celeborn came to stand beside her and she slipped her tiny hand into his. “How did this happen? We should have prevented it.”

 

Celeborn’s thumb rubbed the soft skin of his wife’s hand. “Sauron must have hidden the Orcs’ presence from our minds. I didn’t sense the foul creatures before.”

 

“Neither did I.” Galadriel leaned heavily against Celeborn and rested her head tiredly against his shoulder. He reacted at once and folded one arm around her waist, pulling her tight and giving her the comfort she obviously craved. “I pray to the Valar that they will return home safely. All of them.” Her heart went out to Elladan and Rúmil. And to Mithrandir, who was frantic about losing his son. She couldn’t blame him, as she was nearly panicking herself, realizing she faced losing Orophin, who was as a son to her.

 

“We must put our faith in Mithrandir,” said Celeborn thoughtfully. “And in Elladan. Our grandson is an excellent tracker. He will surely locate those Orcs and together they will free Erestor and Orophin.”

 

Galadriel found comfort in Celeborn’s words and his soothing presence. “Oh, my heart, what would I do without you?”

 

Celeborn placed a loving kiss on her hair and held her tight. “We must believe that light will always defeat darkness, my love.”

 

Galadriel sighed, hoping Celeborn’s hopes would come true.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haldir had a tight hold on Thranduil, who lacked the necessary strength to struggle to his feet unaided. Legolas’ actions had left Haldir dazed and slightly confused, suddenly finding himself responsible for Thranduil. “Sire,” he said, uncertain how to address the golden-haired Elf who was Legolas’ mirror image. Only the emerald eyes set Thranduil apart from his son.

 

“We are on a battlefield!” said Thranduil in an exasperated tone. “There is no need for titles here!” Truth was that he had never grown used to being addressed in that way. He always associated that word with his father, Oropher. “Help me stay on my feet!” He refused to lie here – uselessly – when his soldiers needed him. “Support me!”

 

Haldir reacted quickly and complied, steadying the elder Elf when Thranduil finally straightened and looked out over the area. “We drove the Orcs and spiders back into the woods, and your soldiers are safe for now.” Haldir wanted to reassure the Elf who resembled the one he loved so much! If it weren’t for the green eyes, he would have thought he was holding Legolas close and not Thranduil.

 

“Good,” mumbled Thranduil, relieved to find his warriors were no longer in any immediate danger. “We need to regroup.” Biting down his pain, he scanned his surroundings with a warrior’s gaze. “And we need to tend to the wounded.”

 

“Your son is already taking care of them. Look.” Haldir pointed out the group of Elves constructing litters so they could take the wounded to the healers. “Legolas is stationing sentries and securing the area.”

 

“He is an excellent warrior, and strategist,” said Thranduil, proud that his son had risen to the occasion. Legolas was his strength, his wisdom, his heart. His son meant everything to him. Swaying suddenly, his breath caught as a terrible pain burned his side.

 

Haldir sensed the other’s growing discomfort. “Maybe I should help you lie down again, Si—“ He stopped himself in time, seeing Thranduil’s disapproving expression, and a shy smile appeared on his face. Thranduil was nothing like he had imagined the Sindarin Elf to be like. “I await your orders, my Lord.”

 

“My Lord,” huffed Thranduil. Ah, well, he could live with that. “Just don’t call me Sire again.” That title would always be reserved for his father.

 

“As you wish,” said Haldir teasingly, surprised at how comfortable he felt being around the Woodland King. Thranduil certainly didn’t resemble the bitter and haughty Elf some tales made him out to be.

 

“I want to oversee these proceedings personally until Legolas joins us again.” Thranduil was using his last strength, struggling to remain on his feet, and it was only due to Haldir’s support that he didn’t crumble in front of his men, who continued to hover close just in case he called for them.

 

“Do you think that is wise?” Haldir met Thranduil’s stubborn gaze when the elder Elf glared at him. “Why not wait for him at the camp site? Your troops built a fire and it warms the ones who are injured. Surely you don’t begrudge yourself the comfort your men are finding at that warm fire?” He was surprised at his bold tone, but something about Thranduil reassured him that the King wouldn’t easily grow cross with him. /Legolas and his father are more alike than I thought./ And the protectiveness he felt toward the son was now also extended to the father.

 

Thranduil considered protesting, but knew he couldn’t, as he didn’t want to disrespect his soldiers, who were pleadingly signaling for him to join them. “I will comply, but I don’t think it is necessary to fuss over me.”

 

Haldir released a relieved sigh, and supported the weakened elder Elf as they made their way over to the camp. Once he had convinced Thranduil to sit down near the fire, he knelt at the Sindarin Elf’s side and began to push aside the fabric that clung to the bloodied skin.

 

“If you possess any healing skill I demand you see to my men first,” said Thranduil determinedly.

 

It was one of Thranduil’s commanding officers who came to Haldir’s aid, for which the Galadhel was extremely grateful. “You are our King, Thranduil, and you need to let this Elf attend to your wounds.”

 

Thranduil sighed. What was he to do when everyone teamed up against him? The fussing would become even worse once Legolas returned. “Fine, check on my injury!”

 

A smug grin spread across Haldir’s features. Thranduil was a pleasant surprise *and* a tempting riddle. Kneeling beside the Woodland ruler, he used a small dagger to cut away the fabric that obscured the wound. He hissed, seeing the ugly, deep slash. “I need to wash that out and bandage it.” Although Thranduil was in no mortal danger, the elder Elf would be in considerable pain for quite some time if they didn’t take care of the injury now.

 

“I will fetch water and herbs,” said one of the Woodland Elves, hurrying away to fetch the items his ruler needed.

 

Haldir couldn’t help making his next remark. “Your men are exceptionally loyal to you.” Even whilst he was attending to Thranduil’s injury he felt their probing eyes on him, ready to jump him if he should dare inflict any unnecessary pain on their ruler.

 

Thranduil ignored Haldir’s remark. The Galadhel didn’t know how much he and his warriors had come to depend on each other during these dark years. He endured Haldir’s probing, and the washing out of the wound, but when the Galadhel bandaged his side, he released a series of Dwarven curses that even made Haldir blush.

 

“Ada!” Legolas marched towards Haldir and his father, a half-grin on his face. “Let him attend to you!” Once he had reached Thranduil, he sat on his heels and studied his father’s face. “How badly injured are you? On my way here I sensed your pain, so don’t tell me it is only a scratch!”

 

Haldir’s grin remained, hearing the parental tone in Legolas’ voice. Legolas had defended his father that firmly earlier because he loved him so much. “He will survive,” replied Haldir, trying not to sound too smug.

 

Legolas sighed, relieved, and then rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. He watched closely whilst Haldir bandaged Thranduil’s injured side, and occasionally gave the commanding officers new directions when they came to him for council.

 

In the meantime, Haldir’s respect for Legolas deepened, realizing the silver-haired Elf put his people’s safety first – including the Galadhel’s and Elrond’s guards.

 

“Will you return to the caves to heal, Ada?” Legolas held his father’s stubborn stare.

 

“I should remain here to guide our troops,” said Thranduil firmly.

 

“My heart would be reassured knowing you in safety, Ada,” said Legolas pleadingly. “You can count on me to look after our troops’ safety.”

 

“I know I can,” admitted Thranduil reluctantly. “You are staying here and not returning home with me then…?” In his heart he knew Legolas would stay behind. Legolas had assumed command of their troops and needed to secure their borders before he could return home.

 

“I can’t, Ada.” Legolas smiled, sorrowfully, gently squeezing his father’s hand, which he had gathered in his. “Haldir here will take care of you. Don’t give him any trouble. He means well.”

 

Haldir’s grin faded slightly, as he would have preferred to remain at Legolas’ side instead. But Legolas was in charge and maybe he could find a way into his secret love’s heart by taking good care of Thranduil. “He is in the best hands with me.”

 

“That’s what I am worried about,” mumbled Thranduil, “Being mothered to death.”

 

“You are practically immortal,” said Legolas teasingly, “Being fussed over won’t kill you.” He leaned in closer and placed a chaste kiss on his father’s dirt smeared brow. “Recover quickly, Ada. Our people need you.”

 

“The little that is left of my people,” said Thranduil, suddenly sounding embittered.

 

Haldir sensed some of Thranduil’s sense of loss and grief, and his heart went out to the elder Elf. Although he wanted to reassure father and son that everything would be all right in the end, the words wouldn’t come to him, Thranduil’s emotional pain was too palpable. Legolas’ gaze met his, and Haldir nodded once, reassuring the golden-haired Elf that he would take good care of his father.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shivers ran down Erestor’s spine, finding three of Sauron’s Nazgûl keeping watch over them. Orophin, still unconscious, was safely wrapped in his arms. He could tell that the Orcs who had taken them were uncomfortable around the Nazgûl, and he couldn’t blame them, feeling the same measure of terror. The three Ringwraiths were dressed in long, flowing robes, hidden in their darkness. Long, dangerous swords were girded around their waists, and four angry, fuming horses stood behind them.

 

Erestor shook, having to bear the black speech of Mordor being uttered in his direct surroundings. He instinctively tightened his hold on Orophin, when the unconscious Elf trembled against him. What were the Nazgûl doing here? Why were they walking toward Orophin and him? Erestor still felt weak, and with Orophin cradled against him, he preferred to remain seated on the damp grass.

 

“You…”

 

Erestor flinched, as pure evil rolled off the first Nazgûl in sharp waves, but he didn’t avert his eyes, gathering his strength.

 

“You are coming with us,” said the Nazgûl to the right. “Only you.”

 

The third Ringwraith addressed the Orcs. “Dispose of the Galadhel.”

 

“No!” Erestor’s eyes widened, realizing they were after *him*. But why? He was a mere advisor! “You are not ending his life!” If necessary, he would fight them with his bare hands, even if that meant suicide. “He stays with me!” He tried to glare at them, hoping they had orders to make sure he remained alive. If necessary, he would die with Orophin, but he wasn’t prepared to accept defeat without a fight.

 

The three dark forms stood motionless for some moments, and then the one closest to the two Elves then spoke in a grave-like voice. “He is of no importance to us.”

 

“But he is important to me!” Erestor tucked Orophin’s head beneath his chin. Hoping the Galadhel wouldn’t wake up just yet and complicate matters.

 

“He may be useful in the end,” said the third Ringwraith. He didn’t know Sauron’s exact plans for this dark-haired Elf, but the Galadhel could, perhaps, be used as ‘leverage’ to convince Erestor to carry out his master’s wishes.

 

All three black wraiths nodded once. The first raised his hand, and the four horses approached. “Mount the horse.”

 

Erestor struggled to his feet, praying he possessed the necessary strength to get Orophin onto the horse’s back as well. There was no doubt in his mind that the three evil spirits would leave the Galadhel here to die if he failed.

 

Erestor managed to get to his own two feet, ignored the vertigo and succeeded in pushing Orophin upward, finally settling him on the dark steed. Panting slightly, he mounted himself. Orophin sat in front of him, swaying, and he quickly wrapped his arms around the silver-haired Elf to keep him in place. From the corner of his eyes he watched the Nazgûl mount as well, and the next moment a terrifying shriek sounded in the air, as they urged their mounts into action.

 

Erestor’s horse reacted at once, following its masters. One Nazgûl now rode in front of them, another one at his right, and the third behind. Erestor’s courage faded, realizing they were leaving him no way out. Orophin and he were their prisoners, and he shivered, imagining what terrible fate lay in store of them.

 

Looking at the stars and moon, he quickly determined the general direction they were riding in. Horrified, he realized they were taking him to Dol Guldur.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Orophin groaned, feeling nauseous and dizzy, when he finally regained consciousness. Warm blood dripped down his face and he wondered which fool had placed him on a galloping horse, when he should be lying down and resting instead. Blinking his eyes a few times, he found it was pitch-dark around him, and that someone was sitting behind him, holding him tight.

 

“Don’t,” said Erestor, having sensed the Galadhel’s return to alertness. “You don’t want to draw their attention.”

 

Orophin managed a frustrated frown, and raised his head. His breath caught, finding one of the horrific Nazgûl riding next to them. The evil being was wrapped in darkness, face hidden from view, and his Elven senses told him to be very careful. Orophin slowly looked over his shoulder at Erestor, questions forming in his eyes.

 

“I don’t know either why this happening,” whispered Erestor, relieved the evil wraiths allowed them to communicate. “They dismissed the Orcs and we have been riding non stop for most of the night. I think they are taking us to their Master’s fortress.” Although his feelings raged privately, he succeeded in presenting a calm front to Orophin.

 

“Why us?” The dizziness increased and Orophin rested the back of his head against Erestor’s shoulder. “I don’t feel so well.”

 

“We sustained injuries during our fight with the Orcs, but our Elven healing ability will help us heal.” Erestor swallowed hard when one black hood moved, and darkness stared back at him where a face was supposed to be. Was the Nazgûl telling him to stop talking? He would take advantage of talking to Orophin as long as he could. “They were after me, not you.”

 

Orophin gave Erestor a lopsided grin. “They like sneaky, dark-haired advisors?”

 

Erestor felt terribly relieved that Orophin was still capable of jest when they were in such dire straits. “I don’t know, my friend. But they were quite eager to dispose of you. Those Orcs would have turned you into a roasted evening meal.” He was only half-joking.

 

Orophin picked up on the serious tone in Erestor’s voice at once. “What made them reconsider then?”

 

“I told them that you were to stay with me. Maybe they will use you to get to me in the future, but for now we are alive and well, considering the circumstances.” His thoughts involuntarily drifted off to Glorfindel. When the Orcs had taken him captive, his last thought had gone out to his love. Why had things gone so wrong between them? Why had it been impossible for them to be happy? Why had he ever left the safety of Imladris?

 

“This isn’t your fault,” mumbled Orophin, seeing questions and guilt in Erestor’s chocolate brown eyes. “You didn’t know they had an interest in you. I wonder why though… Ouch, my head hurts.”

 

“Why don’t you save your strength and rest? I know that having to ride is most unpleasant in your current condition, but I doubt they will allow us to rest.” Erestor tightened his hold on the Galadhel, sensing Orophin was slipping into a healing sleep. “Think of Elladan, of the love you bear him. He loves you in turn, you know. Hold on to that.” Their situation was most serious, but Erestor refused to give up hope. It would take them several days to reach Dol Guldur and a lot of things could happen in that time.

 

/Oh, Glorfindel, my love. If only you knew how much I still love you./ Glorfindel’s letter was still in his pocket, an ever present reminder of the blond’s love. He just wished he’d had the time to write a reply, assuring his beloved that he would wait for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 21

 

The next time Orophin regained awareness, he felt slightly more rested. The vertigo was fading, but his head still throbbed with pain. Finding himself in Erestor’s arms, he cast another look over his shoulder. Although droplets of dried blood clung to the advisor’s raven mane, the dark eyes were alert, and a troubled frown had formed on the dark-haired Elf’s face. “Did anything of importance happen whilst I was unconscious?”

 

Erestor forced himself to abandon his musings and shook his head. “We have been riding non stop, and I am now fairly certain of our destination. We are headed for Dol Guldur.”

 

“And you know that because…?”

 

Look at the position of the rising sun, fading moon, and stars. We are headed for Dol Guldur.” Erestor’s mood was darkening, realizing there wouldn’t be a chance of escape.

 

“Then we will pass by Fuinglad. Won’t the Woodland Elves notice evil passing through?”

 

Erestor shook his head again. “Thranduil and his Elves are constantly under the spell of darkness. Even if they feel the Nazgûl passing by their lands, they wouldn’t act on it. They are weakened and need to look out for themselves first.”

 

“Our situation is truly hopeless then,” said Orophin, sighing. “Or did you manage to think of a way to escape their terrible presence?” If they wanted to escape they had to try before reaching Sauron’s stronghold. Once inside, all hope was lost.

 

Erestor didn’t like admitting it, but… “I cannot think of a way to outrun three Nazgûl, Orophin. The horse we are riding obeys them, not me. And we are both still weakened from the attack.”

 

Orophin’s heart missed a beat, realizing he would probably never see his beloved Elladan ever again. And now, now he wished he had told Elladan of his love for him. “I was a fool.”

 

Erestor smiled gently. “Elladan knows the truth, my friend.”

 

“But I should have told him, instead of hiding behind excuses.”

 

“You realize that now because you are in great peril, and Elladan has probably reached the same conclusion by now as you did.” Momentarily resting his chin on Orophin’s shoulder, he whispered softly into his companion’s ear. “Don’t think Elladan will give up on you that easily. That boy is quite stubborn – a trait which he doubtlessly inherited from Elrond. He will follow you into Sauron’s stronghold if necessary.” Erestor had hoped to reassure his friend, but sensing Orophin growing tense against him, he realized he had said the wrong thing.

 

“I don’t want him to expose himself to such danger!” Worried, Orophin looked at Erestor, meeting the dark gaze. “I don’t want him to follow me!”

 

“He is a Peredhel,” teased Erestor gently, “And they do what they want. You cannot influence his actions anyway as he is miles away from you.”

 

Orophin sighed, greatly burdened by pain and worry. “He should remain in Lothlórien where he is safe. I cannot imagine Galadriel and Celeborn allowing him to leave.”

 

“As I said before, Elladan is a very independent character and will do as he sees right. Don’t worry about him too much, Orophin. This is out of your hands.” Pressing himself close to the shivering silver-haired Elf, Erestor briefly closed his eyes, thinking back to the happy times which he had shared with Glorfindel. He needed to remember those times to get him through the terrible present. /Oh, my beloved, if only I’d had the chance to say my goodbyes and to assure you of my love./ But fate had dictated differently.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

/Elrohir? Can you hear me? Answer, if you can!/

 

Elrohir was slightly taken aback, hearing the urgency in Elrond’s mind voice, but then again, his father was probably extremely worried because they had left that unexpectedly. Magolion was riding at his right side, whilst Glorfindel urged Asfaloth to an even greater speed in front of him. /I hear you, Ada./

 

Back in Imladris, Elrond released a relieved sigh, and relished the reassuring squeeze that Lindir bestowed onto his hand. /I fear for your safety, Elrohir. Won’t you return home?/

 

/I cannot do that,/ replied Elrohir, /Glorfindel is driven by this overwhelming urge to see Erestor. He insists something terrible has happened to our advisor and Glorfindel is determined to ensure Erestor’s safety. I dare not leave him alone in this state. Or would you prefer me to leave Glorfindel with Magolion?/

 

Elrond shook his head. The two Elves might get along now, but leaving them alone was definitely a bad decision. He didn’t have a choice then. /Be careful on the roads, my son. There has been increased Orc activity near our borders./

 

Elrohir sensed his father’s concern and fears, and tried to soothe them away. /It is the three of us, Ada, and I wouldn’t want to be the Orc that tries to stop Glorfindel. I am finally beginning to understand what that Balrog might have thought when facing him. No wonder our friend could take out that demon. I have seldom seen such driven determination!/

 

Sighing his surrender, Elrond nodded his head once. /Keep me informed, Elrohir. Now that Elladan and you have left Imladris, I greatly worry about your safety. Please return home quickly./

 

/I will do my best, Ada./ Feeling his father retreat from the mental connection, Elrohir’s gaze met Magolion, finding a questioning expression in them. “My father found the note.”

 

Magolion suddenly understood that Elrohir and Elrond had been faspeaking, something he had never managed himself. “He must be greatly worried.”

 

Elrohir nodded once, and spurred his horse on to keep up with Asfaloth. They couldn’t risk losing sight of Glorfindel. “He is riding like the Dark Lord himself is on his heels.”

 

Magolion swallowed hard. “What do you think has happened to Erestor?” Glorfindel had only told them that Erestor was in pain, but Magolion suspected the blond knew more details, but was keeping them to himself.

 

Elrohir gave his companion a rueful smile. “Are you worried about Erestor?”

 

Magolion nervously moistened his lips and then gave a quick nod. “It is the first time in my life that I am really worried about him. I always pushed any worry or fears away, never letting them surface, but now… I want him safe. I want to be able to talk to him and ask for his forgiveness one day. My motives aren’t completely pure, Elrohir. I want him safe for myself, but also…” He was talking in circles, uncertain what he really wanted to say. In the end, he opted for, “I don’t want him to be in pain. I want him safe.” After a moment’s thought Magolion added, “That is a strange realization.”

 

Elrohir gave him a wistful smile. “One could call that brotherly love.”

 

Magolion’s face briefly contorted. “Does it feel like that to you? Do you constantly worry about your brother’s safety and well-being?”

 

Elrohir’s smile warmed. “When we were Elflings I did. But I learned to put my trust in him a long time ago. Elladan can take care of himself. But, yes, occasionally I worry about him.” Like now, knowing Elladan loved Orophin against all odds.

 

Unexpectedly, Glorfindel halted, jumped from Asfaloth’s back and stood motionless, his eyes scanning the horizon and his Elven hearing strained to the maximum.

 

His companions managed to come to a stop just in time before crashing into him and they dismounted as well. Their horses were glad for the unexpected pause, and hoped the rest would continue for some time.

 

“Glorfindel? What is it?” Elrohir was tempted to ground the golden-haired Elf by placing a hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder, but in the end he didn’t, afraid he would somehow break his friend’s concentration and startle him. Glorfindel’s gaze unexpectedly found his and Elrohir found it hard to maintain eye contact, as the azure eyes were swimming with tears.

 

“They took him.” Glorfindel blinked once, and then grew aware of Magolion standing in front of him. “They took Erestor.”

 

Magolion hadn’t thought it possible, but his heart actually missed a beat at hearing the desperate tone to Glorfindel’s voice. “Who did?” Although he dreaded the answer, he had to know.

 

“The Nazgûl.” Glorfindel shivered, speaking those words, and heard both Elves draw in their breath in surprise.

 

“The Nazgûl? What do they want with Erestor?” asked Elrohir, stunned. He would have understood if they had abducted his father, or grandmother, as they both wielded rings of power, but Erestor?

 

Magolion briefly experienced a terror he had never felt before. “They took my brother?” It was the first time in his long life in which he realized the bond between Erestor and him. Although they only were half-brothers, he had never felt this connected to Erestor before. They were blood. Suddenly everything fell into place. “Well, they cannot have him! I won’t allow it.”

 

A surprised smile surfaced on Glorfindel’s face. “I want him back too, Magolion. I slew a Balrog once, and now I am more than prepared to take on the Nazgûl.” He would do anything to get the love of his life back. “We are wasting precious time,” added Glorfindel, heading back to Asfaloth. “We need to ride like the wind if we want to catch up with them. The evil wraiths are taking Erestor and Orophin to Dol Guldur.”

 

Elrohir, who had been in the process of mounting his horse, froze. “Orophin? You didn’t mention him before!”

 

Glorfindel gave the half-Elf an apologetic look. “I forgot. I am trained on Erestor, not Orophin, but I should have mentioned it before. Yes, they took Erestor and Orophin; they surprised them when they ventured out too far.”

 

“Ai, Elladan,” whispered Elrohir, upset. His twin must have put up a barrier to keep his worries from him, as he hadn’t felt his twin’s panic or worries. “The stakes are even higher now.”

 

The three of them mounted, even more determined to free the abducted Elves.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

/Oh, stubborn brother of mine!/ Exasperated, Elrohir reached for Elladan’s mind, and once he had established close contact, he sensed the tension and fear that swirled beneath the calm surface his brother was trying to project. /Don’t try to fool me./

 

Elladan’s eyes widened slightly, realizing Elrohir already knew something was terribly amiss. /What is it, brother?/

 

/Erestor and Orophin were taken and you didn’t even bother to tell me!/

 

Elrohir, noticed Elladan, sounded disappointed. /I didn’t shut you out on purpose. It is just… I don’t know how to deal with this yet. As far as Mithrandir can tell, they are taking Erestor and Orophin to Dol Guldur./

 

/Mithrandir is with you?/ That slightly reassured Elrohir.

 

/And Rúmil as well. You didn’t think we would stay in Lothlórien when they are in immediate danger?/ Elladan intercepted Mithrandir’s knowing gaze. The Istar had probably sensed that his twin was reaching out to him. /And how about you, brother?/

 

Elrohir responded at once. /Glorfindel, Magolion and I are also on our way to Dol Guldur. Glorfindel is running the horses ragged, just to catch up to them./

 

/Magolion? Glorfindel? On your way to Dol Guldur?/ Elladan’s eyes widened. Although Rúmil was talking to him, he didn’t hear the Galadhel’s words, as he was completely focused on his twin. /Why?/

 

/Glorfindel told us that Erestor was in pain and calling for him. We ran into him fully armed, and he was on his way to the stables, so Magolion and I decided to accompany him. I don’t need to mention that Ada is extremely worried, do I?/ Elrohir grinned, knowing Elrond would lecture them upon their return.

 

/Glorfindel knows?/ Elladan met Mithrandir’s gaze again. This time the Wizard was quizzically looking at him. “Glorfindel, Elrohir and Magolion are also on their way to Dol Guldur. Glorfindel claims he heard Erestor call out for help.”

 

Mithrandir’s eyes softened remarkably. “Glorfindel heard his call?” Although the two Elves still had to work out their problems, hearing this was encouraging. It meant Glorfindel and Erestor still loved each other. “If they are on their way to help us free them, we should join up together.”

 

Elladan relayed that idea to Elrohir, who agreed. /It will take us some days before we can rendezvous, but we would stand stronger if it is the six of us instead of just us three./

 

Mithrandir now frowned, wondering why that one name sounded familiar to him. “Magolion, but isn’t that…”

 

“Erestor’s half-brother,” finished Elladan for him. “Yes.”

 

“But Erestor and Magolion…” Mithrandir wondered how to phrase this delicately.

 

“It seems Magolion has had a change of heart,” explained Elladan, as his twin updated him. “Magolion has joined them because he wants to help. Apparently, he has changed his ways.”

 

/He *has* changed his ways!/ said Elrohir determinedly. /His whole personality is changing./

 

/I just hope he won’t disappoint you, brother,/ said Elladan, hoping his twin would be spared any heartbreak. He still didn’t trust Magolion’s so called good intentions.

 

/I know he won’t,/ replied Elrohir, giving Magolion a warm smile. /I need to leave you now and tell Glorfindel and Magolion what I just found out. Oh, one last word of warning. Erestor and Orophin are being taken to Dol Guldur by Nazgûl. You might want to be careful for a change./

 

/Nazgûl?/ Elladan exchanged a worried look with Mithrandir. “Nazgûl have taken them.” Next to him, Rúmil visibly tensed, biting his bottom lip, and Elladan immediately reassured his friend. “But we can take them on. We will find a way.”

 

/We will,/ came Elrohir’s reply in his mind. Elladan replied at once. /Brother, we will meet in a few days. We should face the enemy together instead of attacking separately./

 

/You had better hurry then,/ said Elrohir, /I am not sure if I can keep back Glorfindel if you aren’t there. I have never seen him this… driven before. He seems possessed./

 

/Love does that to people,/ said Elladan, feeling melancholy. /I wished I had never let Orophin out of sight./ Composing himself, he began to retreat from their deepened connection. /I will see you in a few days, brother./ Elrohir sent a last, longing mental caress and then his twin was almost gone from his mind. Only a thread of their former strong connection remained, reassuring him his twin was alive and well. The day that thread was severed would be the day one of them died.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir felt more hopeful now that Glorfindel, Elrohir and even Magolion were on their way to aid them. Maybe the six of them would find a way to outsmart Sauron.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel also took heart, hearing Mithrandir, Elladan and Rúmil would shortly join them. It was a fine group of warriors that would venture into Dol Guldur to free Erestor and Orophin. /Please, Elbereth, hear my prayer and let us reach Erestor and Orophin in time!/

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil didn’t like it one bit that Haldir remained close at all times. The silver-haired Galadhel constantly fussed over him; checking his wound, inquiring if he was resting comfortably, offering him food and water the entire time. “Stop hovering so close!”

 

They had reached the safety of the caves a few hours ago and the healers had rushed to examine their ruler. After dressing the injury with fresh herbs and bandaging the wound, they ordered Thranduil to his bed, telling him to rest. Thranduil found it extremely difficult to follow their orders when his only son was out there trying to keep the spiders and Orcs in check.

 

“My Lord, your son entrusted you to me and I will do my best not to disappoint him.” Haldir tucked the blankets around Thranduil’s form and assisted the stubborn King in drinking some water. “I want you to be fully recovered the next time Legolas and you meet.”

 

Thranduil had watched Haldir closely during their journey home and he had realized something about the Galadhel. “You are interested in my son.”

 

Haldir immediately averted his eyes. Sitting down on a chair close to Thranduil’s bed, he shrugged once. “I am not deluding myself, my Lord. I know that he is far above my station.” It never occurred to him to lie to Thranduil; something told him the elder Elf would immediately know he was being untruthful.

 

Intrigued, and thankful for the distraction, Thranduil studied Haldir more closely. “I sense much love for him in your mind.” This was unexpected, but his curiosity got the better of him. “When did this start?”

 

“When your son came of age he visited the Golden Wood. For me it was love at first sight.”

 

“That was over two millennia ago,” said Thranduil thoughtfully. Now that he was focusing on Haldir, his pain had faded and he even felt clearer headed. “You have been in love with him since then?”

 

“Yes. I saw him once more when I was sent here as part of an escort, which had to deliver a message from Lord Celeborn to you. I never saw you, but I did see Legolas again.” Haldir wondered why he was confiding in Thranduil, but for some reason the King had a soothing influence on him. Maybe it was because Legolas and Thranduil looked so alike. “My Lord, please don’t think badly of me for falling in love with your son, and you can rest assured that I won’t court him.”

 

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at that news. This Galadhel was a complete riddle to him. “And why is that?”

 

“He is your son, your heir. He will rule here one day. I am merely one of the Galadhel, hardly a suitable match for you son, and I know that. I accepted that a long time ago.”

 

“My Lord, you should rest,” said a healer, worried now that his ruler continued to talk to the Galadhel whilst he should be resting.

 

“Not now, be gone,” said Thranduil, dismissing the healer. “I am in the midst of an important conversation!”

 

Haldir grinned weakly, hearing the healer mumble softly, leaving them alone. “He meant well.”

 

“Of course he did, but his timing could have been better.” Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, wondering about this Galadhel. “You are willing to give up on my son so easily? I must admit to being disappointed. I thought a warrior like you wouldn’t accept defeat so quickly.” Seeing Haldir’s perplexed expression, Thranduil smiled. “I see you believed the many, twisted tales that have been created concerning my person.”

 

“I must admit to being greatly surprised, yes.” Haldir fell from one surprise into another.

 

“But we were discussing my son,” said Thranduil, reminding Haldir. “Do you love him? Do you even know what love is?”

 

Haldir thought himself mad to continue to confide in Thranduil, but he did so nonetheless. “I know what love is. I have loved and lost before. He died in the last fight at the Battle of the Last Alliance. My heart grieved, but when I saw Legolas, your son’s inner light chased away my eternal darkness.”

 

“You are a poet as well as a warrior,” teased Thranduil. “Again, why give up on him so easily?”

 

“He is your heir, my Lord, what more reason do you need?”

 

“Let me tell you something, Haldir of ‘Lórien.” Thranduil shifted slightly in his bed and grimaced briefly, when his body reminded him it was still sore. “I also have loved and lost in my life, just as you have. The love of my life was an artist, a painter. His hands brought any canvas to life. My father didn’t approve of my choice, but I still defied Oropher. I professed my love for Remmen, and we bound our hearts in love. When my father found out, he was furious, but there was little he could do to separate us, as such a bond is considered blessed by the Valar. He eventually accepted it.”

 

Haldir frowned. Just what was Thranduil trying to tell him?

 

Seeing Haldir’s confusion, Thranduil sipped some more water and then continued. “What I am trying to say is that you should always try. Don’t give up so easily! You are a warrior, aren’t you?”

 

“I never expected you of all people to encourage me to court your son!” Haldir’s wide eyes revealed his disbelief.

 

Thranduil chuckled softly. “My son is as stubborn as I am, Haldir of ‘Lórien. I am merely telling you to try before giving up on him. I am not saying he will return your affection.”

 

“Yes, I already know that he is stubborn,” said Haldir, smiling warmly. “That is one of the reasons I love him.”

 

“Children,” said Thranduil, speaking to himself. “Why do they always make things so difficult on themselves?”

 

Haldir smiled fondly at the Woodland King. He hadn’t thought if possible, but Thranduil had somehow found a way into his heart, and maybe he would follow the elder Elf’s advice, knowing Thranduil wouldn’t stand between Legolas and him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Haldir, I must confess to being hungry. Would you kindly fetch something to eat for me?” Thranduil had just awoken from a healing sleep and grinned, finding Haldir still faithfully at his side.

 

“Of course, my Lord.” Glad that he could be of service, Haldir got to his feet and left. A moment later he returned with hot soup. “Do you need assistance eating this?”

 

“I think I can manage on my own.” Thranduil pushed himself half upright, and leaned back into the pile of pillows that supported his back. Disposing of the spoon, he sipped the liquid instead. “Lord Celeborn must miss you, Haldir of ‘Lórien.”

 

“Why is that?” Haldir frowned.

 

“You are very loyal, alert, and you obviously care for my well-being.” Thranduil emptied the bowl and returned it to Haldir. “I will be able to join Legolas again in the morning.” The injury already caused him less discomfort and he was determined to leave the safety of the caves as quickly as possible.

 

“Oh, I don’t think so, Ada!” Legolas marched into the room, carved out of stone, and gave his father a look full of warning. “I just spoke to the healers and they want you to rest for at least two more days!”

 

“Humpf, I am the parent, you the child. You are not supposed to tell me what to do!”

 

But Haldir saw the genuine love and affection in Thranduil’s emerald eyes when the King uttered those words. Haldir’s heart warmed, seeing Legolas carefully embrace Thranduil. The two Woodland Elves shared a tight bond, one he had seldom seen between father and son.

 

“We drove the evil forces back to the borders of Dol Guldur. It will be a while before they will attack again,” said Legolas confidently, carefully sitting down on the side of his father’s bed. ”I judged it safe to leave for a moment and to check on you.” Legolas’ azure eyes sought out Haldir’s, and he was grateful that the Galadhel had excellently taken care of his father. “Did he behave?”

 

Haldir smiled, seeing the conspiring glance that Thranduil gave him. “Yes, he behaved. He rested, just as he was told.”

 

Thranduil gave his son a smug smirk. “You see?”

 

Legolas chuckled softly. “You are only behaving because Haldir is guarding you! Without him at your side, you would already have returned to the battlefield!”

 

“Yes, you know me very well, my son,” said Thranduil in a melancholy tone. “Legolas, we need to secure our borders at all cost. The evil is growing stronger, I can feel it. We must be careful.” After seeing Legolas nod, he asked, “Are there many casualties on our part?”

 

“Only a handful. The Valar must have looked after us. Some warriors carried away grave injuries, but the healers doubt there will be more deaths.” Legolas gathered his father’s hand in his. “We arrived just in time with the reinforcements.”

 

Thranduil nodded and his gaze shifted from Legolas to Haldir. “I am most grateful that Lord Celeborn decided to send troops to our aid. Your presence here is greatly appreciated. We wouldn’t have survived without these reinforcements.”

 

Haldir smiled ruefully. “Lord Elrond also sent some of his best warriors.”

 

“Yes, we should express our gratitude the moment this fight is over.” He considered farspeaking with them to thank them, but quickly dismissed that idea. The three of them hadn’t parted on good terms. “I will write a letter of thanks.”

 

Haldir inclined his head in approval. “My Lord, we didn’t know how grave your situation was or we would have acted earlier.”

 

“You couldn’t know,” replied Thranduil, “I didn’t want anyone to know.” He hadn’t wanted to appear weak in front of Elrond and Celeborn, but he had asked for help in the name of his people, who were suffering.

 

“Ada,” started Legolas, leaning in closer, “I need to return to our troops now.”

 

“Take Haldir with you, son,” said Thranduil, giving Haldir a wink whilst Legolas was bestowing a gentle hug on him. “He is a warrior and not a minder. He deserves to be on the battle field, serving us the best way he can.”

 

Legolas looked from his father to Haldir. Yes, Thranduil was right, but knowing Haldir was at his father’s side reassured him. The Woodland King possessed a mischievous streak, which had gotten him into trouble before.

 

“I promise to behave and comply with the healer’s orders,” replied Thranduil. “Now leave me to my misery.”

 

Legolas smiled warmly, gently ran his fingers through his father’s long, golden hair and then rose from the bed. “Make sure you heal, Ada.” After seeing Thranduil nod, Legolas signaled for Haldir to follow him. “Come, my friend. You posses valuable knowledge when it comes down to securing borders and I want to learn how you keep Lothlórien’s borders safe.”

 

Haldir felt proud, hearing that request and before following Legolas out of the cave, his gaze briefly met Thranduil’s. The Woodland King’s eyes were alight with mischief.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 22

 

 

They had mounted their horses and were now on their way back to the borders. Legolas glanced over at Haldir, and easily saw the confusion in the Galadhel’s hazel eyes. “I gather my father isn’t the Elf you expected him to be?”

 

Haldir, forced away from his musings, nodded once. “You are quite right. He is like nothing I thought he would be. I wonder where the tales of his cruelty and arrogance originate from.”

 

“They are probably whispered into the hearts of Elves by the Dark Lord, trying to discredit my father. It is in the Dark Lord’s best interest to keep my father isolated.”

 

Haldir had a newfound respect for Legolas and Thranduil. For the first time, he fully realized they had been fighting evil without the aid of a ring of power or other realms backing them up. “I must admit to having a soft spot for your father, something I never expected to happen.”

 

Legolas smiled warmly at Haldir. “My father has known much sorrow in his lifetime. Maybe I will tell you about his sacrifices when a more peaceful time is upon us.”

 

“He said he had loved and lost. That he had bound himself to an Elf called Remmen.” Haldir had closely monitored Legolas and immediately noticed the shocked expression in the sapphire eyes.

 

“He told you about Remmen?” Now that did surprise Legolas!

 

“He said he defied Oropher to be with him.” Haldir paused, hoping he wasn’t opening any old wounds. “I gather Remmen’s fëa traveled to the Halls of Mandos?” After all, Thranduil said he had loved and *lost*. Legolas visibly tensed and Haldir was afraid he had asked something inappropriate. He was about to apologize when Legolas raised a hand, and Haldir remained quiet instead.

 

“Yes, Remmen’s fëa dwells in the Halls of Waiting. He was mortally injured.” Legolas didn’t want to address this matter now and stared ahead, finding they had reached the troops’ base camp. “No more of this. Work awaits us!”

 

Haldir could tell Legolas was fighting painful memories and privately cursed himself for bringing up this particular topic. In future he would stay clear of the subject.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas and Haldir inspected the borders together, repositioning sentries and improving the communication between the soldiers. It wasn’t long before the Imladris’ guards, Galadhel, and Thranduil’s Woodland Elves were working together closely.

 

Legolas and Haldir were pleased, realizing spiders and Orcs would have a hard time penetrating these borders. Satisfied that Fuinglad was safe for now, they joined their troops and ended up seated near the campfire. Sitting slightly apart from their men, Legolas cast a probing look into Haldir’s direction.

 

The Galadhel had quickly become a source of support, and he was beginning to feel he needed Haldir close. That feeling amazed him, and he briefly wondered if it was just professional interest he had in the sentry. Haldir was a skilled warrior, a good strategist and had quickly gained his respect. But the sentry was also extremely handsome, with long, silver hair dancing against the small of his back, and big, hazel eyes following him around wherever he went. Legolas was slowly beginning to wonder if Haldir was already bound to someone, or if the Elf was still available. He knew his father well enough to know that Thranduil would accept whatever mate he chose. His heart had always gone out to the strong warriors, not the fragile looking she-Elves. And Haldir? Haldir was perfection.

 

“What are you thinking about?” asked Haldir, puzzled at seeing the dreamy look in Legolas’ sapphire eyes. He stretched his legs, lay down on his side, and continued to study the ethereal being seated next to him.

 

“You,” said Legolas honestly. Thranduil had taught him to take life as it came, not to run away from events, but to face them head on.

 

Haldir raised an eyebrow inquisitively, secretly pleased that Legolas was thinking about him. “Any question in particular that occupies your thoughts?”

 

Legolas nodded once. “I was wondering if you are already bound to someone.” He caught Haldir’s widening eyes and chuckled softly. His father would have enjoyed watching this scene. “I am curious, you see.”

 

Haldir’s heart fluttered with song, hoping Legolas had a reason to ask this particular question. “I am not bound to anyone, not anymore. My mate died at the Battle of the Last Alliance and his soul traveled to Mandos.”

 

Legolas felt saddened for Haldir’s loss, but at the same time he registered two facts. One, Haldir was available, and two, Haldir had had a male lover. “Your preference lies with males then?”

 

Haldir wiggled an eyebrow. “Doesn’t yours?” He was treading on thin ice, but he had to take this risk. He might never again get such a chance!

 

Legolas blushed slightly. “Yes, it does.” He smiled, slightly nervous now that the cards were out in the open. “Though I never bound myself to someone. I haven’t found true love yet and I won’t settle for anything less.”

 

Haldir chuckled; it was as if he heard Thranduil talking. Father and son were much alike. “Do you believe in true love then?”

 

“Yes, my father and Remmen shared true love.” Legolas smiled sorrowfully. “I still miss Remmen. Miss hearing their happy voices echoing through the air.” Legolas gave Haldir an apologetic look. “My father and Remmen were truly happy.”

 

Haldir moistened his lips. He had promised not to bring Remmen up again, but now Legolas had done so and he asked, “Would you tell me more about them?”

 

Legolas heard the real question behind the question. “One night Orcs invaded our telain. Our soldiers tried to fight them back, but the foul beings quickly reached the royal telain. I was only an Elfling, and cried for my father when I saw their vile faces. It was Remmen who came to the rescue. Remmen wasn’t a warrior, but he managed to free me and was in the process of handing me to one of the soldiers when an Orc’s swords split his back in two. My father arrived too late and his men formed a circle around them whilst Remmen died. He died defending me.”

 

Tears swam in Legolas’ sea-blue eyes and Haldir saw the badly concealed anguish on the handsome face. Instinctively, he sat upright, reached for Legolas and wrapped him up in an embrace. “His death wasn’t your fault. He did what was right, protecting an infant from those foul monsters.”

 

Legolas, who was being consumed by remembered grief, accepted the comfort Haldir offered and melted against the Galadhel. He rested his head on Haldir’s shoulder and released the tears he had tried to fight back. “Remmen was a father to me, Haldir.”

 

“I understand, my Prince,” whispered Haldir, soothingly.

 

“Do you?” Legolas briefly looked at Haldir, seeing true understanding in the hazel eyes, wondering about why it was there. Then he remembered that the three brothers had been taken in by Celeborn and Galadriel and raised as their own sons at a very young age.

 

Haldir hadn’t thought he would ever tell this tale again, but seeing Legolas’ questioning eyes, he knew he had to confide in him. “I am the oldest of the three of us, and also the only one who clearly remembers the Orc attack that left our parents dead. We were traveling from Sirion to the Golden Wood to reside there when Orcs lured my parents into an ambush. My father, a skilled swordsman, tried to defend his family, but he was alone and there were too many Orcs. The foul beings slaughtered my parents, but not before my mother succeeded in hiding us in the thicket. I had to keep my brothers from screaming. Rúmil was too young to understand what was happening and cried for his mother. I had to put my hand over his mouth to make sure he remained quiet. Orophin was… shocked. He was too shocked to move at all. He was paralyzed.”

 

Legolas’ heart went out to Haldir, and, fascinated, he listened to the rest of the story.

 

“Once the attack had ended, I ventured out to see if my parents had survived, but I quickly ran away after seeing their bloodied and ripped bodies. I took my little brothers and guided them deeper into the forest. For some days we lived on berries, spring water and nuts. We were exhausted and desperate when Celeborn came upon us. It was a lucky coincidence that he had set out to see how secure the borders were.”

 

Haldir drew in a deep breath, and saw the genuine understanding in Legolas’ eyes. “I hid us from him at first, as I didn’t trust him. But he was beautiful, radiant, and full of light. In the end, Rúmil began to wail, drawing Celeborn’s attention and he found us within minutes. I must have made a poor impression on him, trying to defend my brothers. But he wouldn’t have it, and ordered his men to each put an Elfling in front of them. That is how we entered Lothlórien.”

 

Haldir swallowed hard, and found that Legolas was tightly squeezing his hand. “Galadriel had already been notified of our arrival and was waiting for us. Rúmil immediately took to her, and Orophin also went willingly to her, but I remained on Celeborn’s horse. I was so exhausted, and finally the burden of having to take care of my brothers fell off of me. It was Celeborn who carried me inside their talan and took care of me. We stayed,” said Haldir, shrugging once. “Before I knew it, weeks had passed, and Rúmil and Orophin were calling Galadriel nana. I know they greatly missed our parents, and having Galadriel as a substitute was greatly helping them.”

 

Haldir smiled sorrowfully at Legolas. “It took me a long time to learn to trust them and to address Celeborn as my father. Galadriel and Celeborn told me they had no desire to take the place of my real parents, and explained to me that they looked upon the three of us as their sons. Nowadays, I look upon them as my parents as well.”

 

Legolas gently squeezed Haldir’s hand again, realizing the trust the Galadhel had placed in him by telling him his history. “You were lucky.”

 

Haldir’s eyes briefly flared with rage. “Why do you say such a thing?”

 

“I apologize if my words hurt you,” said Legolas quickly, “I meant no disrespect, but… I had to watch my father nearly fade after Remmen died. He only stayed because of his love for me. Watching him grieve, hurt. As you might have noticed, my father and I share a tight bond. If it hadn’t been for that connection I would have lost him as well. Those decades were hard on me. I wanted to console my father, but I was a mere Elfling. I didn’t know the right words. I could only hug him and tell him I loved him.”

 

Haldir’s anger vaporized, understanding what Legolas meant. “Galadriel and Celeborn helped heal our wounds, but they are still there.” Their eyes met and Haldir blinked, finding Legolas closer than he had been when they had begun this conversation. Only now did he realize that they were in each other’s arms, and that Legolas was slowly laying him down. He complied, and before he knew it, he found himself in a warm embrace, Legolas’ head resting on his chest.

 

“We should rest now. Once my father arrives, mayhem will ensue,” said Legolas slowly. “The Valar know I love him with my whole heart, but he is a handful.”

 

The remark broke the deep, dark tension of the past that had hung over them, and Haldir chuckled softly. He stroked the long, golden hair and felt like the happiest Elf on Arda for having Legolas this close.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rúmil found it increasingly hard to conceal his worries from Mithrandir and Elladan. They rode together in front of him, and he envied them for the friendship they shared. Yes, he knew Elladan well, having been one of the twins’ playmates, but lately they had grown apart. Orophin being in love with Elladan, roles between them had changed once more, making him feel abandoned.

 

He missed Orophin and Haldir. They had spent most of their lives together and being without them caused him heartbreak. His head hung forward in defeat and he didn’t notice Elladan riding away from them at first. Only when Mithrandir came to ride beside him did he look up.

 

Mithrandir smiled weakly. “We will find him.”

 

Rúmil swallowed hard. “We will find *them*. I am also worried for Erestor, not just Orophin.”

 

Mithrandir’s smile widened. He knew he would have to confide in them shortly, as he couldn’t venture into Dol Guldur whilst holding the knowledge from them that Erestor was his son. It probably was the very reason why Sauron had ordered Erestor taken to his fortress. “Can you sense Orophin still?”

 

Rúmil nodded weakly. “He is alive, I can tell that much, but nothing more.” His heart would tell him if his elder brother had died. “But why did the Orcs take them?”

 

Mithrandir sighed. “All will be revealed once we join Elrohir’s group.”

 

“You know more,” realized Rúmil, taken aback. “Won’t you tell me now?”

 

“Can you keep a secret until we join the others?” Mithrandir needed to talk to someone too, as his heart wept for his son. Maybe Rúmil and he could comfort each other.

 

Rúmil nodded once. “I can keep secrets.”

 

“Sauron is after Erestor for a reason,” said Mithrandir, sighing. “Erestor is my son and I was careless when helping him free his powers.” He watched Rúmil closely and when the Galadhel’s horse halted, Shadowfax followed suit.

 

“Your son?” Rúmil had never expected to hear such a thing!

 

“Yes, Erestor is my son, and therefore half-Istari. He possesses powers he never knew existed and I helped him to get into touch with them. Sauron must have noticed Erestor’s coming into power.”

 

“And Orophin was unfortunate enough to accompany Erestor that day,” mumbled Rúmil. “I still find it hard to believe that Erestor is your son!”

 

“I understand that it is hard to believe, but it is the truth.” Mithrandir’s gaze sought out Rúmil’s. “Sauron took my son and your brother and we will do our best to get them back!”

 

Rúmil nodded absentmindedly. “Mithrandir, does Erestor know? Does he know you are his father?” Searching the Wizard’s eyes, he read the truth in them.

 

“He doesn’t. His mother never told him who sired him and I was too much of a coward to tell him once I found out she had borne me a son.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell him these last few days?”

 

“I didn’t know how to tell him,” confessed Mithrandir. “I decided a long time ago to never reveal the truth to him.”

 

Rúmil shook his head. “But he is your son!”

 

“I don’t know if he would have forgiven me for deserting him and his mother.”

 

“But you just said you didn’t know you had a son.”

“At first I didn’t,” explained the Wizard, “I only realized the truth when I met Erestor at Elrond’s court.”

 

They grew quiet after this, and Rúmil stole short glances at Mithrandir. He finally realized what was at stake here for the Istar. “I do hope you will tell him after we free him.”

 

Mithrandir raised sad eyes and looked at Rúmil with defeat in them. “But what if Sauron tells Erestor first? Will Erestor ever forgive me for my mistakes?”

 

“You are afraid Sauron will tell him that you are his father?”

 

“Think about it, my young friend. Sauron will want to corrupt Erestor, convince him to work for him. Betrayal is an excellent tool to attain that goal.” Mithrandir was deeply troubled. “I would ask of you to keep this to yourself until we meet Elrohir’s party.”

 

“You will tell them then?”

 

“Yes, they have a right to know what they are fighting for.” Mithrandir’s thoughts drifted off to Glorfindel. Erestor’s love for the blond Elda must still be very strong indeed to cover such a distance to reach him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Glorfindel! We have to wait!” Elrohir was only one step away from physically restraining his former tutor. Magolion and he had managed to talk Glorfindel from Asfaloth’s back, but now the warrior was about to mount his horse again. “No! Mithrandir told us to wait!”

 

“I won’t wait! Erestor needs me now!” Glorfindel glared at his former student. “Elrohir, can’t you understand that I love him? That I need him to be safe?”

 

“You have a better chance of accomplishing that when we join Mithrandir’s party, you stubborn…”

 

Magolion placed a hand on Elrohir’s shoulder, grounding him. Looking into Glorfindel’s blazing eyes, he said, “Elrohir is right. We stand more of a chance if we wait for the Istar’s party.”

 

Glorfindel considered breaking loose and leaving them behind, but the realization that Erestor would call him a fool for running off like that stopped him. His former lover would want him to wait for Mithrandir. “I don’t like it. We are wasting precious time!” He shook off Elrohir’s arm, which had been restraining him and took to pacing their surroundings.

 

Elrohir sighed, relieved, and met Magolion’s eyes. “Let us hope they will arrive shortly.” He didn’t know just how long Glorfindel was prepared to wait.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel was the first to notice the party of three that now appeared at the horizon. “Finally!” He hurried over to Asfaloth to mount his horse, but Elrohir kept him back.

 

“Wait for them to catch up with us,” Elrohir said calmly.

 

Glorfindel actually growled. “I refuse to wait any longer.”

 

“You *will* wait!” decreed Elrohir, trying to sound as authoritative as his father.

 

Glorfindel was tempted to shove Elrohir aside, but a sane part of his mind realized he wasn’t acting rationally. Drawing in a deep breath, he steadied himself and waited for Mithrandir to join them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Even from this distance Mithrandir sensed Glorfindel’s impatience and fears. Any doubts he’d had concerning Glorfindel loving his son vanished. The blond would eagerly lay down his life to save Erestor. “Greetings,” he said, coming upon them.

 

Elladan and Elrohir threw themselves into each other’s arms, and hugged tightly. Rúmil remained at Mithrandir’s side, watching the twins embrace and wished Orophin was already out of danger.

 

Elladan pulled back and studied his twin. Elrohir couldn’t possibly fool him and Elladan immediately noticed the love for Magolion in his brother’s eyes and mind. Remembering the other’s presence, his gaze sought out Erestor’s half-brother. Much of the anger had faded from the eyes, and Magolion appeared calm and controlled.

 

Mithrandir’s gaze was drawn toward Glorfindel, who now swung into the saddle. The Balrog Slayer was eager to leave and he couldn’t blame him. “Glorfindel? A word before we leave?”

 

Glorfindel actually glared at the Istar. “Can’t we talk whilst on horseback?”

 

“No, I do think we need a moment so I can properly tell you what is really happening.” Mithrandir dismounted and signaled for his companions to gather around him.

 

Elladan’s arm was folded around his twin’s, finally finding the comfort he had been searching for. Elrohir understood how deep his pain ran now that Orophin had been taken!

 

Magolion remained close to Elrohir, but didn’t try to approach him now that Elladan was present.

 

Glorfindel, once more pacing, stared at Mithrandir, hoping the Istar would hurry up and tell them already. “What is so important that you must keep us here to tell us?”

 

Mithrandir drew in a deep breath and then revealed the truth to them. “Sauron has taken Erestor because he is my son. Erestor is half-Istari.” He held his breath involuntarily, seeing Glorfindel’s eyes widen dramatically.

 

“You are joking!” exclaimed Glorfindel in disbelief, seeing his surprise mirrored on the others’ faces. The twins’ eyes were big, and Magolion was nearly swaying on his feet. “Why are you telling us lies?”

 

“It is the truth,” stated Mithrandir calmly, as his gaze traveled from Glorfindel to Magolion. “For a short time I was your mother’s lover and I sired Erestor.”

 

Magolion groaned. “You were my mother’s lover?” He had never thought to find out the identity of Erestor’s father. “And Erestor inherited your powers?”

 

“Some of them,” clarified Mithrandir. “As his mother was Elven, his powers are weaker compared to mine, but still considerable. If Sauron succeeds in truly releasing them…”

 

“Then what?” asked Glorfindel, still fighting down his feelings of shock.

 

“Then we might be in trouble. Erestor doesn’t know how to wield his powers, and Sauron may find a way to corrupt him.” Mithrandir sighed deeply. “We must find a way to free Erestor and Orophin.”

 

Magolion was still trying to accept the truth when Glorfindel mounted Asfaloth once more.

 

“What are we waiting for? We need to find a way into Dol Guldur!” Glorfindel stared at his companions. “Mount your horses and let us head for Sauron’s fortress!”

 

“Think, Glorfindel! Do you really want to charge in there? Do you really think the Dark Lord will allow that?” said Elrohir, shaking his head. “We have to sneak in there and draw as little attention as possible.”

 

Mithrandir nodded once. “Elrohir is right. I know a secret path leading into Sauron’s stronghold. We must use our wits instead of force.”

 

Glorfindel had finally had it. “I don’t care how we will get into Sauron’s stronghold, but we need to get moving now!”

 

Mithrandir, sensing Glorfindel’s love and fear for Erestor, mounted Shadowfax and signaled for his companions to do the same.

 

Elladan and Elrohir rode side by side, whilst Rúmil rode next to Mithrandir. Magolion concluded the party, riding at its tail, whilst Glorfindel had taken the lead.

 

Mithrandir let Glorfindel take the lead for now. Once they reached Sauron’s lands he would assume command.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 23

 

 

“My love?” Lindir sat down behind Elrond, who was seated on the floor and staring at the fire. “Will you share your thoughts with me? I can tell they are troubled.” Ever since the twins had left, Elrond had seemed absentminded. He understood Elrond worried about them, but they were skilled warriors, who could take care of themselves.

 

Elrond leaned back against Lindir’s chest, pressing close to his beloved. “I have lost so many loved ones. What if I lose them too?”

 

“You won’t lose them,” said Lindir, trying to comfort the half-Elf. He pressed butterfly kisses against the nape of Elrond’s neck. Unexpectedly, Elrond pulled away from him and then looked at him from over his shoulder. An alert expression had suddenly appeared on the Peredhel’s face and Lindir wondered what had caused it. “Love?”

 

“Promise you will never leave me, Lindir. I don’t think I could continue to live without you. I have already lost too many of those whom I have loved.” Elrond gathered Lindir’s hands in his, and rubbed a fingertip over the ring he had given his beloved a few days ago. A ring to symbolize their love, forged from mithril. “Promise me.”

 

“I promise,” said Lindir compassionately, sensing his lover’s distress. “I cannot live without you either.” Burying Elrond in a tight hug, he held the half-Elf close, wishing he could drive all worries away from his lover’s mind.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor reached for Orophin’s hand, and cradled it in his own when the Nazgûl shrieked victoriously. A moment later, the advisor realized why. Dol Guldur had arisen at the horizon. It would only take them a few hours to cover the distance to Sauron’s stronghold. Orophin’s hand twitched in his, and Erestor met the inquisitive hazel eyes when the sentry looked at him from over his shoulder.

 

“Once we are inside we can abandon hope,” mumbled Orophin, distressed.

 

“I refuse to give up hope yet,” stated Erestor, trying hard to appear calm and in control for the younger Elf’s sake.

 

Orophin’s hazel eyes darkened. “What can Elladan possibly do against Sauron and his minions?” The Nazgûl had left them alone so far, for which he felt grateful.

 

Erestor’s eyes misted over momentarily, daring to hope Glorfindel had taken action as well. The blond was always on his mind, as he still blamed himself for not answering that letter straight away. “We cannot abandon hope,” repeated Erestor, “We will find a way to escape.”

 

Orophin nodded his head, but in his heart, he only felt despair.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel pushed his heels deeper into Asfaloth’s flanks, urging the horse to speed up. Magolion had appeared beside him, but he tried to pay the dark-haired Elf as little attention as possible.

 

“Glorfindel?” Magolion tried to establish eye contact with the blond, but Glorfindel refused to look at him. “I didn’t know Erestor was Mithrandir’s son.” He was still trying hard to accept that.

 

Glorfindel bit on his bottom lip, just wishing they could travel faster. It would take them several days to reach Dol Guldur!

 

“For what it is worth,” said Magolion, realizing Glorfindel was too caught up in his own worries to help him deal with his, “I do think Erestor still loves you.”

 

“I know he does,” said Glorfindel, eventually making eye contact. “I can sense it.”

 

Magolion swallowed hard. “I wished I hadn’t made things worse between the two of you.”

 

Mithrandir now appeared at Glorfindel’s right side, having heard the exchange. “It must be because of Erestor’s awakening powers that he can reach out to you. That alone is proof enough of his love for you. But what about you, Glorfindel? Do you love my son?” He vividly remembered Erestor’s sleepwalking; his son’s desperate attempt’s to soothe a lover that wasn’t there.

 

“I love him with my entire heart!” stated Glorfindel firmly, daring Mithrandir to doubt his words. “But I was too frightened and stubborn to realize my fears were keeping me away from him. That has changed now.”

 

Mithrandir studied Glorfindel hard and long. “Has it indeed?”

 

“Yes, and I have Elrond to thank for that. He showed me what I was running away from!” Glorfindel was getting fed up with their attitude. “Why are we discussing this when we should be planning the rescue attempt?”

 

Mithrandir’s heart softened, hearing the panic in Glorfindel’s voice. “Erestor is well for the moment, Glorfindel, and there isn’t much planning to do. Once we reach the Dark Lord’s fortress we will enter via a secret passage way. I will distract the Evil One whilst you and the rest search for Erestor and Orophin. But you must be careful. The Nazgûl are formidable opponents, even for one who has slain a Balrog.”

 

Glorfindel heard the warning and understood. “I don’t care if I die, Mithrandir, as long as Erestor is freed.”

 

Mithrandir smiled warmly. “But my son wants you alive, Glorfindel, and so do I. I don’t want him to fade due to grief over losing you. You had better stay alive, or you might find Erestor challenging the Valar for your life.”

 

That brought a smile to Glorfindel’s face. “You think he would do that to get me back?”

 

“Oh, yes, he is certainly capable of doing just that.” Mithrandir chuckled, and sensed Glorfindel relax marginally.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan and Elrohir continued to ride close to one another, and Rúmil felt even more left out now that the twins had been reunited, as he was reminded of his own loss.

 

“Keep faith,” said Mithrandir, after falling back and steering Shadowfax closer to the young Galadhel. “This is a formidable group and quite capable of bringing this mission to a successful end.”

 

Rúmil took heart, finding that the Wizard hadn’t given up hope. “I just want Orophin back, and Haldir at my side.”

 

Mithrandir nodded in understanding. “The three of you are seldom apart.”

 

Rúmil sighed. “I feel alone.”

 

“You aren’t alone, my friend,” said Mithrandir, briefly reaching out to bestow a caress onto Rúmil’s silver hair. “You are surrounded by friends.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor’s steps didn’t falter when the Nazgûl signaled for him and Orophin to step into the dark hall. Although several torches illuminated the hall, darkness remained, making his heart pound with fear. Orophin, standing next to him, was shaky as well, and they clung to each other, approaching the throne made out of bones, which was set upon a pedestal.

 

“We won’t survive this encounter,” mumbled Orophin, whose heart was overrun with terror. The atmosphere was suffocating and he struggled for his next breath, as evil literally took his breath away.

 

Erestor felt the pressure as well, but somehow managed to remain calm. He watched intently as more Nazgûl appeared until the nine of them had formed a half circle behind them, leaving them no way out. “We must be strong now, Orophin.”

 

Orophin straightened his shoulders and prayed to the Valar to give him the necessary strength to face evil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Legolas! They are attacking again!” One of the Woodland Elves quickly warned their current leader. “The spiders! And Orcs! They are back!”

 

Legolas, who had been asleep in Haldir’s arms, startled awake. He needed exactly one moment to realize he had allowed the Galadhel to hold him in his sleep, and then struggled free, jumping to his feet. He would consider this attraction between them later. First, he had to deal with this new threat! Calling out new orders, he suddenly found Haldir at his side, pressing a sword into his hands. They exchanged one look, reached an agreement and joined the troops. Yes, they would sort out their feelings later.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The battle lasted longer than any had expected, and Legolas felt himself wearing down. Through an ancient link he was connected to these lands, and the realm was suffering, so he was suffering with it. His father doubtlessly felt it as well, and he was relieved, knowing Thranduil safe in the caves.

 

Haldir had remained at his side for most of the battle, but a spider had driven him far to his right. Although he strained his excellent Elven sight, Haldir remained hidden from view. He could only hope the Galadhel was holding his ground.

 

Oh, by the Valar. He had never expected to develop feelings for Haldir, but when they had told each other their life stories an attraction had formed. Cutting the head from another Orc, Legolas wondered what to do where Haldir was concerned.

 

“Legolas, behind you!”

 

Haldir’s warning reached him too late. A large, terrifying spider appeared behind him, one of its deadly legs poised to impale him. No, this couldn’t be the end! Eyes wide, he watched as the spider carried out the execution.

 

“No!” A sudden scream echoed through the air, and someone swept him off his feet. Off balance, he crashed hard against the trunk of a tree, and, dizzy, he remained on the ground. In disbelief he stared at the Elf who had saved his life. “Ada?” Where had Thranduil come from?

 

Haldir had witnessed Thranduil’s rescue attempt and now sprinted toward Legolas. After quickly checking the Prince over, he hauled him to his feet whilst Thranduil continued to drive back the spider. “Can you still fight?” Haldir asked Legolas.

 

Legolas nodded once. “I am merely shaken.” Looking over at his father, he shook his head. “He is supposed to be resting!”

 

Haldir allowed a brief smile. “I gather he isn’t one for following orders.”

 

Legolas’ jaw set firmly. His father would hear more of this later! Raising his sword, he joined in the attack, whilst Haldir sent a shower of arrows in the spider’s direction.

 

Thranduil was actually grinning when Legolas appeared at his side. “It feels good to be back!” His injury still hampered him slightly, but he had been unable to remain in bed when the first tidings of the newest attack had reached him. The spider slowly went through its legs, collapsed, and Thranduil quickly ended its life. Turning toward Legolas, he clasped his son’s shoulders. “We are winning.” Seeing the displeased expression in the azure eyes, he knew he was in trouble. “Just remember I saved your life just now, son!” Not giving Legolas a chance to start his lecture, he marched away, decapitating an Orc on his way over to his troops.

 

Haldir joined Legolas, and, looking around, he realized the forces of evil had been defeated once more. The last survivors were retreating deep into the forests. “Drive them all the way back to Dol Guldur,” he ordered his Galadhel, who quickly complied to carry out his orders.

 

“I am going to tell him that—“ Legolas was unexpectedly silenced by one of Haldir’s fingers, which came to rest against his lips.

 

“He is your father, yes, but he also rules this realm. His place is in the front line. His honor demands it.”

 

“I know that!” Legolas angrily glared at Haldir. “I am just afraid to lose him! He is reckless.”

 

Now that the threat was gone and the soldiers attended to the wounded, Haldir folded an arm around Legolas’ shoulders and guided him away from the battle field.

 

“Where are you taking me? I should be—“ Again, Legolas grew quiet, but this time it was Haldir’s lips that silenced him, claiming his in a passionate kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor sensed the arrival of evil and tightened his hold on Orophin’s hand. The silver-haired Elf trembled beside him and Erestor wished there was a way to reassure his companion, but he couldn’t lie to him when they were in such a grave situation. The feeling of evil tightened around them and Erestor fought for breath, seeing a radiant form appear from behind the throne, which was made of the finest white bones – Elven bones?

 

Shuddering, he stood his ground as Orophin leaned against him for support, but he concentrated on the evil one instead. A golden-haired Elf, dressed in splendid blue robes now stood in front of the throne and Erestor’s heart stopped beating momentarily. For one terrible moment he thought Glorfindel had also fallen into Sauron’s hands, as he had recognized his lover’s features.

 

But it wasn’t Glorfindel who was standing there. Where he would usually encounter azure eyes, there was nothing. The sockets were gaping holes of white. Erestor realized the truth that very moment; Sauron had taken on Glorfindel’s form, probably to intimidate and unbalance him. And to his shame he had to admit it was working.

 

“Is that…?” Orophin’s voice faltered and he looked to Erestor for support. Something about that newly arrived being made the blood freeze in his veins. Never before had he felt such terror!

 

“Sauron,” whispered Erestor softly. Part of him was enraged that the Dark Lord dared abuse Glorfindel’s appearance for his manipulations, but he also knew that he had to stay quiet for now. The last thing he should do was defy Sauron.

 

“Finally,” said Sauron, his voice sounding cold and metallic beneath the blanket of pretending warmth. “You have finally arrived.”

 

Erestor shivered violently at hearing Glorfindel’s voice. But the cold layer beneath it warned him that this was Sauron, not his lover. He involuntarily took a step back, pulling Orophin with him when Sauron continued to advance on them. Feeling the presence of the Nazgûl behind him, he froze in his tracks, not wanting to make any bodily contact with them. So Orophin and he were forced to stay in place and watch Sauron approach them.

 

“Let me talk to him, Orophin,” said Erestor, feeling protective of the younger Elf. And it was he, not the Galadhel, Sauron was after. Trying hard to appear calm and in control of his raging fear, he watched Sauron come to a standstill in front of them.

 

The Dark Lord had even managed to mimic the robes Glorfindel usually wore during formal receptions and Erestor bit his bottom lip, telling himself he was being manipulated. Just one look at the empty eye sockets told him so.

 

“Welcome to Dol Guldur,” said Sauron, pleased that the Nazgûl had captured Olórin’s son at last. Erestor would serve him well once he had turned him to evil.

 

Erestor remained quiet, and felt Orophin’s fingers grow icy cold in his. He felt the chill as well. The source was Sauron himself, and he shivered from cold for the first time in his life. So this was how it felt to be cold.

 

Sauron raised his right hand, cocked his head and smiled at the dark-haired Noldo who firmly stood his ground. Erestor’s defiant reaction pleased him for it meant Olórin’s son had a courageous heart. Oh, after twisting that courage into the desire to please him, Erestor would be terrifying in his new power.

 

Erestor paled when Sauron’s fingertips caressed his cheek. His face instantly felt on fire and he smelled burned flesh where Sauron had touched him. Bearing the pain, he found the courage to glare at the Dark Lord.

 

“Impressive,” mumbled Sauron. “Corrupting you will be a pleasure.”

 

Sauron removed his hand and Erestor released a soft groan, as the burning sensation faded away. But his skin was blistered and the sickening scent of burned flesh remained. One of Orophin’s arms now found its way around his waist, supporting him, and he felt thankful for the other Elf’s support.

 

“Why did you leave this one alive? I told you to only bring me the Istar!” Sauron addressed his Nazgûl, turning away from Erestor.

 

“We thought you could use him to make the Istar compliant, as he seems to care for the Galadhel,” replied one of the Nazgûl in a gloomy tone.

 

Erestor’s eyes had widened at hearing Sauron’s question. /Istar? He ordered them to capture Mithrandir?/

 

Sauron, who had caught Erestor’s thoughts, smiled sweetly. “Your father was greatly amiss in not teaching you how to shield your thoughts, young one. He made you an easy prey.”

 

Erestor sucked in his breath. “My father?” How could Sauron know his father’s identity when he didn’t know himself? Sauron smiled, and the absence of eyes made Erestor shudder more violently.

 

“Didn’t Olórin tell you?” Sauron played his trump, and watched as Erestor managed to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

 

“Olórin?” Erestor stared at Sauron in shock. “Olórin?”

 

“You know him best as Mithrandir. He has many names, but you know the one of whom I am speaking.” Sauron watched Erestor carefully, deciding on the next step in his plan to utterly corrupt him.

 

“Mithrandir isn’t my father,” stated Erestor convinced. Mithrandir would have told him, wouldn’t he? “The mere notion of Mithrandir being my father is ridiculous!”

 

“Is it?” Sauron moistened his lips and gave Erestor a triumphant smile. “Contrary to what he told you not every Elf can speak with animals, nor can they reach out to other Elves over a great distance as you did when you reached out to Glorfindel.”

 

Erestor swayed on his feet. “Glorfindel? I never—“

 

“You did and he clearly heard your call.” Sauron raised his hand a second time, letting it hover near the burned area on Erestor’s face, but not touching yet. “You have no idea what power resides within you. You are a master of fire, much like your father is, but you haven’t discovered your powers yet. He didn’t want you to find out and kept you in the dark. What kind of father is he to deny you your heritage?”

 

Orophin pulled him closer and Erestor eagerly allowed the Galadhel to anchor him. Sauron’s voice possessed a bewitching quality and he felt himself being drawn closer to the Dark Lord. “No, Mithrandir isn’t my father. I refuse to believe that!”

 

Sauron laughed loudly. “Ah, still in denial.” He sobered quickly. “Look into yourself, Istar, and you will find the truth. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to come to power. Ha, he didn’t want for you to be born in the first place.”

 

The words stung like physical blows and Erestor’s breathing quickened. “No, Mithrandir respects all forms of life. Even if what you claim is true –which I don’t believe! – he would never smother a new life!”

 

“Your mother knew he didn’t want you and never told him she was expecting you. She was trying to keep you safe, don’t you see that? She hid you from him!” Sauron sensed the emotional pain Erestor was in and knew it was only a matter of time before the young one would break. Once he had succeeded in utterly breaking Erestor, he would begin rebuilding him in his own image. Erestor would lead his armies when the time came to conquer Middle-Earth. Realizing he had sown the seeds of doubt in Erestor’s mind, he turned away from them and addressed one of the Nazgûl. “Take them to the cell and watch them closely. If Erestor does anything to displease you, punish the Galadhel in his stead.” Smiling coyly at Erestor, he said, “Do you understand?”

 

Shocked, and yet enraged at the same time, Erestor nodded once. So that was why Orophin had been allowed to stay alive. They would use the sentry to control him!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor stared in shock at their new dwelling. The Nazgûl had taken them underground and locked them up in this small room – their cell. It only contained bare essentials. There was a small bathroom and a bed. That was it. Erestor sighed deeply, telling himself to remain calm. As long as they were alive they had a chance to escape.

 

“Erestor?” Orophin’s voice sounded small and shaken, and he looked at Erestor for answers. “Is what Sauron said true?”

 

Erestor turned to face the Galadhel and took one of Orophin’s shaky hands in his. “I honestly don’t know. My mother never told me who sired me, and Mithrandir never mentioned anything. I seriously doubt it is the truth, but I cannot rule it out completely.”

 

Orophin collapsed onto the cot and stared pleadingly at Erestor. “Will we ever leave this place alive?”

 

Erestor, still holding Orophin’s hand in his, sat down beside his friend and pulled him close. Orophin rested his head on Erestor’s shoulder and they sat like that for a while. In the end, Erestor said, “We will survive, Orophin.”

 

Orophin shivered, sighed deeply and clung to Erestor’s presence.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 24

 

 

Completely stunned by the fact that Haldir was actually kissing him that passionately, Legolas dismissed his first reaction to that kiss, which had been to push Haldir away and chide him for taking liberties with him. Instead, he melted into the kiss, pressing close to the Galadhel. He parted his lips and teeth, allowing the tips of their tongues to touch. The kiss deepened and their tongues intertwined in an ancient dance. Pulling Haldir as close as possible, Legolas instinctively thrust again him.

 

Haldir smiled, still kissing his golden-haired Prince and rubbed his groin against Legolas’, demonstrating his own hardness and need. One hand found its way down Legolas’ back and firmly squeezed the Woodland Elf’s buttock.

 

Legolas’ eyes had turned midnight blue, blazing with lust, and Haldir wished he could indulge them, laying Legolas down to make sweet love to him. But they couldn’t, not whilst the enemy remained close. He regretted pulling back, but never broke eye contact with Legolas.

 

Legolas panted slightly when Haldir broke off the kiss and he stared searchingly into the hazel eyes. He should have known the sexual tension between them would find a way out sooner or later. “Haldir… What do we do now?”

 

“I enjoyed that kiss,” said Haldir, testing the waters. “And I think you did too.” After Legolas had nodded his head, he added, “I would like permission to officially court you.”

 

“Court me,” repeated Legolas, smiling warmly. “You believe we have a future together?” The smile suddenly faded. “But you reside in the Golden Wood and I can’t ever leave here.”

 

“Love will find a way,” stated Haldir determinedly. He brushed a side braid out of Legolas’ face, and suddenly found Thranduil looking at them. A pleased smile shone from the King’s face. Haldir swallowed hard, wondering how to tell Legolas that Thranduil had seen them kiss.

 

“What is wrong?”

 

“Your father,” said Haldir slowly. “He saw us kiss.”

 

Legolas immediately spun around and easily located Thranduil, who was grinning cheekily at them. “Oh, no.”

 

“I didn’t see him standing there. He must have followed us here.” Haldir had led Legolas away from the battle field to have some privacy, but apparently Thranduil had followed them. “If I had known…” If he had known Thranduil was watching them, he wouldn’t have kissed Legolas, and would have waited for a more appropriate moment.

 

Thranduil’s grin broadened and he nodded once at Legolas, before turning around and leaving them.

 

His father’s reaction didn’t reassure Legolas, who now faced Haldir again. “Do you think…?” He wasn’t sure what he had wanted to ask, but Haldir cut him short anyway.

 

“He doesn’t seem to mind that you fancy me.” Haldir had also felt startled when finding Thranduil that close to them during such an intimate moment, but he also realized they had nothing to fear from the Woodland King. “He wants you to be happy.”

 

Legolas relaxed marginally. “I need to speak with him. Explain to him—“

 

Haldir grabbed Legolas’ waist, pulled him close and silenced him with a possessive kiss.

 

Legolas allowed it, briefly losing himself in the kiss, but when Haldir released his lips, he said, “I need to talk to him, Haldir. I need to know if he approves of my choice.”

 

“He smiled his approval, didn’t you notice that?” Haldir felt a bit confused; why was Legolas this worried?

 

“There is something you don’t know about my father and I,” hinted Legolas, “And this isn’t the time to explain this matter to you.”

 

Haldir’s confusion now turned into worry. “What matter?”

 

“I said that this isn’t the time for—“

 

“Then we will make time for it.” Haldir resolutely held Legolas’ gaze. “We live in dangerous times. Those spiders and Orcs can return any moment now and might not give us a chance to finish this conversation. One of those spiders nearly impaled you. If it hadn’t been for Thranduil…” Not wanting to dwell on this, Haldir placed his hands at either side of Legolas’ head. “Tell me what this matter entails.”

 

“Before I do so,” said Legolas nervously, seeking out Haldir’s eyes, “I need to know what your intentions are. Are you merely looking for a fling or…?”

 

Haldir should have felt offended, but didn’t. “I have loved you from a distance since you first visited Lothlórien. If my love were folly it would have faded since then, but it hasn’t. It has grown stronger over the years. I want you as my mate, Legolas. I am not looking for a fling. I want commitment.”

 

Although they didn’t really have the time to discuss this now, Legolas relented and sagged down until he sat cross-legged on the grass.

 

Haldir followed him down and sat opposite him.

 

“Are you proposing to me?” asked Legolas softly.

 

Haldir nodded firmly. “Yes, marriage is my ultimate goal.”

 

Legolas drew in a deep breath. “Do you wish for my answer now?”

 

“Yes.” Haldir gathered Legolas’ hand in his and rubbed the knuckles. “Will you marry me?”

 

“What about the Golden Wood? Your brothers? The Lord and Lady?”

 

“I would stay with you, Legolas. I would be at your side wherever you go. Nothing would keep my away from you,” promised Haldir. Leaving the Golden Wood behind and only occasionally seeing his brothers would be a great sacrifice, but one he was prepared to make in order to be with Legolas. “Will you marry me?”

 

Legolas briefly closed his eyes. “There is something you should know about me before asking me that question again.”

 

Haldir forced himself to remain patient. The fact that Legolas wasn’t answering worried him. “What?”

 

Legolas opened his eyes and met Haldir’s gaze. “When my father told you about Remmen, didn’t you wonder why he never mentioned my mother?”

 

Haldir frowned. “Now that you mention it…”

 

Legolas drew in another deep breath and gathered his courage. “My father was never married to a she-Elf. The only lover he ever had was Remmen.”

 

Haldir’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand, Legolas.”

 

Now that the time of truth had come Legolas nearly got cold feet and he would have bolted if it hadn’t been for Haldir’s hand tightly holding his. “My father is also my mother.”

 

Haldir’s eyes widened with puzzlement. “Legolas? How can that be?” What was Legolas trying to tell him? So far the golden-haired Elf had only managed to confuse him.

 

Legolas averted his eyes, finding it easier to tell Haldir without eye contact. “It is our way. My family…” Swallowing hard, he stared at their joined hands. “My grandfather gave birth to my father. And my father carried me for one year before giving birth to me. In our family the males… We can conceive, and bear children.” Now that he had told Haldir, he waited for the other’s reaction to this admission. Only once before had he told a potential lover and this male Elf had broken off their engagement after finding out.

 

Haldir briefly thought Legolas had lost his mind. “But this cannot be!” He raised Legolas’ face, forcing the other Elf to look at him.

 

“My father and Remmen were married – bound. Remmen was my father, and so is Thranduil, but he is also my mother.”

 

Haldir shook his head, his mind spinning with information. “Are you telling me that we can have children as well?”

 

“We can control it – the male Elves in my family. I can decide to conceive, or not. But I won’t lie to you. I would like to have a child in the future.” Legolas involuntarily held his breath, knowing their future would be decided when Haldir spoke next.

 

Haldir studied Legolas for some time, seeing the truth in the azure eyes. “I would be a father one day?”

 

“I know it is the last thing you expected when you asked permission to court me,” said Legolas, still hopeful now that Haldir was making further inquiries instead of walking out of his life. “But yes, you would be a father one day.” Growing nervous, a thin layer of perspiration had formed on Legolas’ brow, wishing Haldir would finally tell him yes or no. “If you want to follow through and marry me, you should also be able to accept there will be children in our future.”

 

Haldir raised a hand and stroked Legolas’ golden hair. “Tell me, is such a pregnancy dangerous? Can I lose you?”

 

Legolas’ heart felt somewhat lighter at hearing that question. Was Haldir actually contemplating accepting this – him? “No particular danger,” he explained. “My body is equipped to deal with a pregnancy.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to lose you, you see,” clarified Haldir. “If having a child meant losing you…”

 

“What is your answer then?” Legolas was growing increasingly nervous, afraid to hope Haldir was comfortable with this concept.

 

“Let me answer your question with one of my own.” Haldir moved until he was kneeling in front of Legolas and pulled the other Elf’s hands against his chest. “Will you marry me and bear my children if the time is right?” He had wondered about the close relationship Legolas and Thranduil shared and now he had finally received his answers. He was actually thrilled at the fact that he would be a father one day. Maybe Legolas would even give him more than one child. He would love that.

 

Legolas stared at Haldir, willing himself to believe the words he had heard were true and to accept them. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course I am. Would you now kindly answer my question? Or do you want me to keep repeating my marriage proposal?” Haldir teasingly smiled at Legolas, having a fairly good idea that the answer would be yes.

 

“I accept,” said Legolas, firmly nodding his head. After having been rejected in the past when sharing his secret, he had been afraid to hope that Haldir’s reaction would be different. But for some reason the Galadhel didn’t find him repellent and still wanted to marry him!

 

In an odd way, Haldir felt saddened at seeing Legolas’ relief, instantly realizing the Woodland Elf had been in a similar situation before, but this past suitor hadn’t been able to accept the truth and had probably wounded Legolas deeply. How anyone could dismiss the gift Legolas was offering was beyond him. Children were a gift, a true blessing from the Valar and he would cherish each child Legolas would give him. Acting on impulse, he wrapped his arms around Legolas and pulled him close, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” Legolas eagerly accepted and returned the embrace. What was Haldir thanking him for? *He* should be the one thanking Haldir for accepting him!

 

“For offering me this gift.” Haldir placed one hand at the nap of Legolas’ neck and brought his lover in for a kiss. “And for accepting me as your husband.”

 

Legolas yielded to the surprisingly gentle kiss and managed to hold back the tears of happiness that had been building in his eyes. His father had always maintained he would one day find someone who would accept him as he was, and now he thanked Thranduil for never taking this dream away from him, for his dream had finally come true in the form of Haldir’s love.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Glorfindel, stop! The horses need to rest!” Elrohir had called out to his former tutor, but Glorfindel wasn’t inclined to bring Asfaloth to a halt. The stallion was doing his best to comply with his master’s commands, but the high pace had exhausted him, and Elrohir had seen it. As a matter of fact, all of the horses – save for Shadowfax – were drained.

 

“Glorfindel, Elrohir is right. We need to pause.” Mithrandir had steered Shadowfax closer to Asfaloth and managed to acquire a hold on the reins with surprising agility.

 

Glorfindel glared at the Istar, but once he saw the expression in Mithrandir’s eyes he was reminded that the Wizard shared his concern for Erestor. As a father, Mithrandir also had Erestor’s best interest in mind. Asfaloth came to a sudden stop and the animal began to tremble lightly, finally being allowed a rest.

 

Realizing he had exhausted the animal, Glorfindel was overcome with guilt. “I am sorry, my friend.” In his need to reach Erestor he had become ruthless.

 

The Elves dismounted, and Elrohir and Magolion volunteered to keep first watch. The others gathered firewood, built a small fire, and cared for the tired animals. Glorfindel also wanted to help, but the Wizard told him in clear terms to tend the fire and let them look after the horses.

 

Glorfindel obeyed, cringing when he saw the state Asfaloth was in, and he felt grateful, seeing Rúmil take care of his horse.

 

Once the horses were taken care of, they gathered around the fire, sharing dried meat, lembas and the little broth that was left. Mithrandir sat down beside Glorfindel, strongly sensing the other’s misery.

 

Elladan and Rúmil sat down as well, but their thoughts were with Orophin, both hoping they would be quickly reunited. Lost in their own thoughts, they didn’t pay much attention to the conversation between Mithrandir and Glorfindel.

 

Glorfindel had acquired some of the wood, which Elladan and Rúmil had gathered and snapped the branches angrily before throwing them onto the fire. His eyes – normally sky blue – had turned nearly black with frustration. They were wasting valuable time, sitting here, but he also was realistic enough to know that the horses couldn’t have kept up the grueling pace much longer. Throwing another snapped branch into the fire, the flames hissed.

 

Mithrandir’s understanding gaze finally met Glorfindel’s when the golden-haired Elf looked at him. “Erestor is still alive.” The connection with his son told him that much.

 

“But he is also very frightened and lonely.” Glorfindel searched inside himself and clung to the presence of Erestor in his mind. “When I first sensed him, I wondered what it meant.”

 

“It means he still loves you and thinks a lot about you,” offered Mithrandir in a gentle tone. “I must confess that not so long ago I wasn’t inclined to let you remain part of Erestor’s life.” Glorfindel’s big eyes radiated confusion and Mithrandir explained, “During our time in Lothlórien I found him sleepwalking. He was trying to comfort you because you were having nightmares. He is so concerned about you that he even worries for you in his sleep. That isn’t healthy behavior.”

 

Glorfindel swallowed hard as more guilt was added to the load he already carried. “I was a coward. I faced Balrogs and other foul creatures, but I lacked the courage to face myself.” Glorfindel maintained eye contact with the Istar, and doing that demanded a lot of courage. “It breaks my heart to hear he was doing that in his sleep. I never realized how much I…” Glorfindel paused to search for the right words, “neglected his needs.”

 

Mithrandir gave Glorfindel a thoughtful look. “Did you even register that he needed you? Your love? Your understanding? Your support?”

 

“I didn’t want to see it,” admitted Glorfindel, growing emotional, and his eyes began to fill with tears. “Only now that I have taken down the wall, I can admit the truth.” Glorfindel pleadingly looked at the Istar. “I would lay down my life to save him.”

 

“I know that,” said Mithrandir soothingly, “And so does Erestor, but I told you before that he doesn’t want you dead.”

 

Glorfindel sighed deeply. There would be no more peaceful sleep for him until he held Erestor in his arms again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elrohir? Do you think we will succeed in freeing them?” Magolion stood beside the Peredhel, as both Elves scanned their surroundings to make sure the rest of the party could safely sleep.

 

“I have the utmost faith in Mithrandir,” said Elrohir slowly, “And Glorfindel will do anything he possibly can to rescue them.”

 

Magolion carefully wrapped an arm around Elrohir, and was thrilled to feel the half-Elf leaning in against him. “I love you,” he whispered, unable to keep his secret any longer.

 

“I know you do,” came Elrohir’s calm reply. “It has been like this for quite some time now.”

 

Magolion smiled warmly. “I thought my admission would surprise you.”

 

“I am not blind, Magolion,” said Elrohir, resting his head on the dark-haired Elf’s shoulder. “But the time isn’t right for us to explore this further.”

 

Magolion nodded his head once, agreeing with Elrohir. “Please be very careful when we enter the Dark Lord’s stronghold. I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Elrohir chuckled softly. “Now you sound just like Elladan.”

 

“Elladan… Do you think he knows?”

 

“About us?” Elrohir chuckled again. “Of course he does. I am not in the habit of keeping secrets from him.”

 

“And he didn’t try to change your mind?”

 

“Oh, he did. But he doesn’t know you the way I do.” Elrohir raised his head, and placed a chaste kiss on Magolion’s lips. “But my father is worried though.”

 

Elrohir’s unexpected kiss caused butterflies in his stomach and Magolion didn’t register the half-Elf’s comment at first. “Worried?”

 

“He is afraid you will revert back to your ways of hurting people. I assured him that wouldn’t happen.”

 

Magolion nodded firmly. “You are right. I am through with hurting others.”

 

“That is what I told him.” Elrohir rested his head on Magolion’s shoulder and they stood watch silently for the reminder of the night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The joy Thranduil had felt quickly faded at the sight of his injured soldiers. The latest attack hadn’t demanded any lives, but the healers were extremely busy tending to the wounded and he quickly joined them, helping wherever he could. Attending to one of the wounded Imladris’ guards, his thoughts drifted off to Haldir and his son. He had always hoped Legolas would find someone who truly loved him, and would accept the fact that he could become a father in the future.

 

Involuntarily, his thoughts drifted off to the love of his life, Remmen. They had been parted too early in life, but he still felt grateful for having been granted a short time of happiness with Remmen. After his husband had died, he hadn’t taken a new lover, as no one could take Remmen’s place, but he still felt lonely and doubted that feeling would ever go away again.

 

He simply couldn’t take a new lover; he would feel like he was betraying Remmen. /That isn’t true though. Remmen wanted me to love again./ His lover had said so when releasing his last breath. Yet, he couldn’t take the step to begin a new courtship, and there was no Elf who had struck his fancy. So he remained alone and his only pleasure was found in spending time with Legolas.

 

After bandaging the guard’s wound, he retreated to his tent, sitting down and uncovering the miniature painting that he always kept safely tucked away in a pocket. It was a self-portrait Remmen had made for him when they had they had begun to court each other. Gently running his fingertips over the painting, the sensitive tips still remembered the feel of Remmen’s silken, red-golden hair. Legolas’ had inherited Remmen’s azure eyes and looking at Legolas therefore comforted him. Legolas was Remmen’s living legacy and he loved his son dearly.

 

But now his son had found a mate and the time had come to let him go. Legolas would want to spend time with Haldir instead of him, which was completely understandable, but the realization still hurt. Now that Legolas had Haldir, he was truly alone.

 

“Ada?” Sensing his father’s melancholy, Legolas entered quickly, dragging Haldir into the tent with him.

 

Not having a choice, Haldir followed Legolas and came to a halt beside his new husband. Thranduil sat in front of them, staring at something he was holding in his hand.

 

“Ada?” Legolas let go of Haldir’s hand, which he had been holding, and knelt in front of Thranduil. “What is it?” His heart missed a beat, finding his father staring at Remmen’s portrait. Unbidden, memories returned of seeing his father grieve after Remmen had died.

 

Thranduil gave Legolas a rueful smile and then looked at Haldir. “This is Legolas’ father, Remmen. I told you about him.” He handed the miniature painting to the Galadhel.

 

Haldir carefully accepted the miniature and looked at it, finding the same azure eyes as Legolas had staring back at him. “I am sorry for your loss,” he said in a hoarse tone, seeing the emotional pain Thranduil was in. He handed it back to Thranduil, who quickly slipped it into a pocket.

 

Thranduil sighed deeply and composed himself again. “There is much to do,” he announced, rising from the chair. “There are wounded and…”

 

“Ada? I need to tell you something.” Legolas stopped Thranduil from leaving the tent and pulled his father closer. During these last few centuries he had hoped Thranduil would find someone to love, but so far his father remained alone. And for one moment he felt guilty for having found love whilst Thranduil hadn’t.

 

Thranduil read all that and more in his son’s sapphire eyes and waited for Legolas to address him. He already knew what his son wanted to tell him.

 

“Haldir proposed to me and I accepted.” Legolas held his breath, waiting for Thranduil to speak.

 

“You told him about our… condition?” Thranduil wanted Haldir to know what would await him in the future. There shouldn’t be any secrets between them if they were about to enter marriage.

 

“I told him,” said Legolas reassuringly, “And he accepts that too.”

 

Haldir cleared his throat. “Although I never expected to be a father one day – as I was always attracted to males – my heart rejoices at the possibility of holding my child in my arms one day.”

 

Thranduil smiled warmly, and felt relieved now that the secret was out in the open. “You are very precious to me,” he whispered, stroking his son’s hair. “I only want the best for you.”

 

Legolas returned that warm smile, and his eyes sparked with happiness. “I truly believe Haldir and I will be happy and I would like your blessing before we make this official.”

 

“You have my blessing, my son,” said Thranduil gently, pressing a parental kiss onto Legolas’ brow. Next, he turned to Haldir. “Make my son happy, Haldir of ‘Lórien.”

 

“I will,” promised Haldir, surprised to feel Thranduil’s lips pressed against his forehead as well.

 

“Then I welcome you to my family.” Thranduil took hold of his son’s right hand and joined it with Haldir’s. “May the Valar bless you and grant you children when the time of war is over.”

 

Beta read by Sulien

All remaining mistakes are mine

 

Part 25

 

Elrond had settled down near the fireplace. After enjoying a bath with his lover, he had left the pool first, had dried his skin and was now staring at the flames. Imladris had become too quiet without his sons, advisor and Captain, and he felt lonely. The fire projected a warm and pink hue over his naked body, but he found no pleasure in watching the fire’s ancient dance.

 

Lindir entered the bedroom soundlessly and crossed the distance to his lover. Elrond had stretched his long legs, his arms rested aside his body and he had cocked his head to look at the flames. Melancholy and need rolled off the half-Elf in waves and made Lindir’s heart ache with sympathy. Kneeling in front of his lover, Lindir leaned in closer and showered Elrond’s throat and chest with butterfly kisses. Reaching out with one hand, he intertwined his fingers with Elrond’s and guided him closer.

 

Elrond turned away from the fire and looked at his lover. Lindir’s long, white hair was loose and damp, simmering golden in the red light of the fire. He wanted to address Lindir, but his lover shook his head and he remained quiet. Now that Lindir was guiding his hand, Elrond took the hint and stroked the satin-like hip.

 

Lindir moistened his lips and continued his exploration down Elrond’s body. Running his tongue down the half-Elf’s flat abdomen, he gently suckled the skin beneath his lips before moving further down. After quickly looking up at Elrond, he found that his lover had closed his eyes, whilst the half-Elf’s fingers now caressed his back. Bending down, he licked his way to his lover’s groin area. Elrond was slowly growing erect and the tip of his tongue gently swirled over his lover’s testes, teasingly manipulating the sac. Once more checking Elrond’s facial expression he found that a weak smile had formed on the Peredhel’s face and Lindir now concentrated on the task at hand.

 

After parting his lover’s legs, he ran his hands along Elrond’s inner thighs whilst his tongue licked down the half-Elf’s length. He continued to caress his lover’s body, whilst taking in as much as of his lover’s erection as he could. Taking his time, he slowly guided Elrond closer to orgasm.

 

Elrond opened his eyes, and looked dotingly at his lover. He rested a hand on Lindir’s bobbing head, gently stroking the long, white strands, careful not to apply any pressure. He cherished the gift his lover was giving him – a chance to temporarily forget about his problems and indulge in these carnal pleasures.

 

Thrusting upward, he tried not to force himself to deep, and Lindir cunningly took him, allowing him this. “Oh, my love,” escaped Elrond, as he finally reached orgasm.

 

Lindir continued to gently suckle, tasting his lover and swallowing the cream. Once he had consumed the last thick droplet, he released his lover’s softening member, and licked his lips to clean off the last drops.

 

Spent, but sated, Elrond caressed his lover’s face, staring adoringly into the warm eyes. “Thank you for that.”

 

Lindir nodded once and simply smiled at his lover. “You needed that.”

 

“I did,” admitted Elrond, only now realizing his lover was still hard. “And what about you?” The fact that Lindir could still blush in a situation like this was something Elrond found utterly charming.

 

“Maybe you could… I mean… You could bring me to orgasm with your hand?” Elrond looked tired – exhausted even – and Lindir wouldn’t have brought it up. But Elrond had.

 

“I know something better than that.” Elrond stretched and moved onto his knees. “Take me, love,” he purred into Lindir’s ear, before turning away from his lover. He placed his hands against the wall, bent forward, and presented Lindir with a lovely view of his backside, inviting his lover to make love to him.

 

“Are you sure you aren’t too tired?” Lindir bend forward as well, blanketing Elrond and kissing his lover’s shoulder. Whispering into the half-Elf’s ear, he said, “We don’t have to do this now.”

 

“But I want this,” said Elrond determinedly, looking at Lindir from over his shoulder. “There is oil beneath the pillow.” They kept it there because they had formed the habit of making love near the fire place, in their nest of pillows.

 

Lindir nodded and took hold of the phial. After removing the stopper, he coated two fingers with the oil. Still kneeling behind his lover, he carefully inserted one digit, then two, taking his time to prepare Elrond. Once he was convinced his lover could take him without suffering much discomfort, he began to sheathe himself inside the half-Elf’s body.

 

Elrond closed his eyes, bowed his head and concentrated on the sensations coursing through him. Lindir was slowly pushing inside, and with every inch that his lover claimed him he felt more strongly connected to the white-haired Elf. Unexpectedly, Lindir plunged in the last bit, burying himself completely. He felt full, deliciously full, and he wanted to continue to feel this way. “Please don’t move yet.”

 

Lindir nodded in understanding; Elrond needed to feel connected to him. “Go down then.” Slowly, he lowered himself onto the half-Elf and followed Elrond down until his lover was lying on his stomach. He was careful not to put too much weight on Elrond, but enough to make sure his lover felt being pressed down. Forcing his own need for release down, Lindir remained motionless, and waited for instructions.

 

“Slowly… Make it last, please.” Elrond sucked in his breath when Lindir thrust for the first time – slowly and deep, rubbing the pleasure gland inside his passage. He pressed back marginally, and waited for Lindir’s next thrust. When it came, stars seemed to explode behind his closed eyes and he surrendered to the white-haired Elf, allowing Lindir to be in control of his pleasure.

 

Lindir had seen Elrond in this mood before and knew that what the half-Elf craved most was letting go. Elrond was the ruler of Imladris, healer, and councilor to many others, but seldom did he get to let go. Tormenting slowly he made love to the Peredhel. Each time Elrond approached orgasm, he stopped thrusting, taking him away from the edge again. Several minutes later the pleading started.

 

“Lindir, please… now… let me come.”

 

It was what Lindir had been waiting for. “Yes, my love, I will.” Running his hands down Elrond’s long back, he placed them aside his lover’s body on the floor and used the leverage he had now had to thrust harder and faster. Within seconds Elrond was squirming and begging beneath him. When he finally granted himself release, he felt Elrond’s inner muscle contract around him, telling him the Peredhel had come a second time. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of Elrond, this time fully pressing his lover down. He panted hard, savoring the last waves of ecstasy that were coursing through him.

 

Elrond smiled into the pillows, feeling sated and content. As he still had some strength left, he pushed himself onto his elbows and rolled Lindir off of his back. Once the white-haired Elf was lying on his side, he rolled onto his other side, coming face to face with Lindir. A silly – almost goofy – smile curled the corners of Lindir’s mouth and he leaned in closer to kiss the other Elf. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around Lindir and pulled him close. “Whenever I think I can’t possibly love you more, I find that I do and I stand corrected.”

 

Lindir gracefully accepted the compliment and curled himself around his lover. “Everything will be fine in the end. Hold onto the knowledge that they will return to us.”

 

Elrond rested his head against Lindir’s shoulder and savored the tight embrace. “I miss them. All of them. I miss my sons the most, but… I also miss Glorfindel and Erestor.”

 

“I miss them too.” Lindir pressed a chaste kiss onto Elrond’s hair. “Have faith in them, love.”

 

“I will try.” Elrond closed his eyes, listened to Lindir’s heartbeat and slowly drifted off into a blessed sleep.

 

Lindir, however, remained awake. He was greatly worried about Erestor, for he sensed something had gone terribly wrong with his friend. But he lacked the courage to tell Elrond that, as the half-Elf was already unbalanced now that the twins had left Imladris as well. “All will be well. They will return to us.” He tried hard to believe those words himself, but he knew that there was a chance that Mandos would call one soul or more to his halls.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Orophin had used some of the water in the bathroom to wet a piece of fabric, which he had ripped off of his riding cloak. He was now using it to cool the stinging burn on Erestor’s check. “Your skin is severely burned, Erestor.” What they needed was a soothing salve, not a filthy cloth and cold water!

 

“I doubt Sauron employs any healers,” said Erestor sarcastically. “And though it stings, the pain is bearable. What really annoys me is this dratted cold.” He had never felt anything like it. “Why is it we feel it?”

 

“It probably has to do with Sauron being this close.” Frowning, he added, “I hope he doesn’t affect our healing ability or you might be left with an angry scar.”

 

Erestor met Orophin’s gaze and saw the emotional pain in them. “I am so sorry you got dragged into this.”

 

“I am not,” replied Orophin, putting up a brave front. “My heart wouldn’t have been able to bear knowing you were here alone. At least now we have each other.” He had cooled the burn as well as he could and now disposed of the cloth. An angry red area had formed on Erestor’s right cheek.

 

Erestor gave him a thankful smile. “You are a true friend, Orophin. And should we ever leave Dol Guldur alive, I pray you will tell Elladan that you love him for you are more than worthy of his love.”

 

Orophin blushed faintly. “Thank you for your kind words.” Shivering from the cold, he shifted closer to Erestor. “Maybe body heat will keep us warm.”

 

Erestor nodded and lay down, taking Orophin with him. They wrapped arms and legs around each other and draped their riding cloaks atop of their bodies. “I always wondered how mortals experienced cold; now I know.”

 

Just when they were growing a bit warm again, horrific screams sounded from down the corridor. The keening wails made them move even closer, clinging to each other in fear. The screams were full of pain – a terrible agony – and they trembled violently when the sound of metal hitting flesh was added to the cacophony of cries.

 

“I am not hearing that… I am not!” said Orophin, trying not to fall apart in front of Erestor. He had never before felt this afraid, this vulnerable, and attributed it to Sauron’s presence. He had been in grueling fights with Orcs, had faced Sauron’s werewolves and other undead creatures, but being inside Dol Guldur and near Sauron was causing him to lose his nerve. Erestor then did something that surprised him. The dark-haired Elf began to softly sing, and although Erestor’s gentle voice couldn’t lock out the terrifying screams, it soothed him nonetheless. It wove a spell around him, calming him down until he was able to rest against Erestor, allowing the elder Elf to continue to soothe him.

 

Erestor locked out most of the screams, concentrating on his singing. Lindir had composed and taught him this song when they had traveled from Lindon to Imladris and it was a bittersweet song of a loved lost. He was so focused on the song that he didn’t notice the screams had stopped and he was also unaware of the fact that the door was ajar, and that someone was entering their cell. He had closed his eyes and thought of Glorfindel, singing of his love for the golden-haired warrior.

 

When he finally ended the song, he opened his eyes and was struck with terror finding Sauron standing next to the bed, watching him. His first thought was for Orophin, but the silver-haired Elf was half asleep against him and hadn’t noticed the arrival of their unwanted visitor. As he didn’t know why Sauron was here, he remained quiet and waited. The hollow eye sockets nearly made him shiver again, but he controlled himself, not wanting Orophin to wake up.

 

“You have a beautiful voice,” whispered Sauron, his head inclined in Erestor’s direction. “You must love Glorfindel very much to sing like that.”

 

Erestor swallowed hard, and refrained from talking. After all, he had Orophin to look after and the younger Elf now moved restlessly against him.

 

Sauron’s voice, which had been gentle a moment ago, now turned as hard as steel. “The next time Glorfindel and you meet you will end his life and offer me his still beating heart.”

 

“Never,” hissed Erestor.

 

“We will see, young Istar. I have broken Elves, even Istari before.” Sauron then turned, left the cell and the door was locked behind him. As he walked down the corridor, the screams started all over again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rúmil gingerly sat down beside Mithrandir. The Wizard was the only one who had offered him comfort since they had left the Golden Wood and now he went to him instinctively.

 

Mithrandir looked up from his bowl of broth and read the uncertainties in Rúmil’s eyes. The blue-gray eyes were slightly misted over with concern and he could almost smell the salt in the air now that the sentry was close. “Don’t grieve for him yet, Rúmil. I haven’t given up on them, and I won’t.”

 

Rúmil nodded his head once, taking heart. “I will do my best.” He was somewhat taken aback when the Wizard reached out, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer, but a moment later he accepted the offered comfort. “It is just… Elladan has Elrohir and he doesn’t need me for comfort. And the others… They are mostly here for Erestor. I don’t have anyone to turn to.”

 

“I understand, Rúmil,” said Mithrandir in a soft tone. “It is hard on you to be alone after having been part of a threesome for so long. You miss your brothers.”

 

“And you?” Rúmil lifted inquisitive eyes.

 

“Except for Erestor I have no kin on Arda.” Mithrandir sometimes longed to be reunited with his fellow Maia, but he had chosen to help the races on Arda and had never regretted that decision, most certainly not in these dark times and with Sauron searching for the Ring once more. He knew it would surface shortly and when it did, another Fellowship would be formed. But he pushed those thoughts away. It wasn’t time for that yet.

 

“Can I ask you something personal?” Rúmil felt extremely bold, searching Mithrandir’s blue eyes.

 

The Istar nodded slowly. “What is it you wish to know?”

 

“I must confess to feeling curious. Did you ever… take… another lover… after…?” Suddenly he felt out of order asking this question. It was none of his business!

 

Mithrandir smiled ruefully. “I didn’t. She was the only lover I had in this life time, and in retrospect I should never have started that affair. I was young and reckless. I found myself on Arda and all its wonders. The most exquisite wonder was Erestor’s mother. She was truly beautiful.”

 

“You never took another lover?” Rúmil’s eyes had widened. “What a lonely life you must lead!” Seeing Mithrandir’s eyes darken slightly, he immediately added, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, but… You must be so lonely!”

 

“You have a compassionate heart,” said Mithrandir, absentmindedly stroking the silken, silver hair. “But think; what kind of life would I condemn my lover too? I battle the forces of evil, travel all over Arda and my companion would be in a constant peril, being this close to me. The last thing I want for someone I love is to be in danger.”

 

“So it is safer not to love?” Rúmil shook his head in disbelief. “I can understand that it would take an exceptionally brave maiden to—“

 

Mithrandir cut Rúmil short. “My friend, my preferences have long changed since then.” He had to chuckle when Rúmil’s eyes widened dramatically. “Yes, I like males too.”

 

“Then I really don’t understand you! A skilled warrior could even contribute to your cause! You wouldn’t have to protect him!”

 

“I wish it were that simple.” Mithrandir’s voice had gained a doting tone, looking at Rúmil. “You are so young, Rúmil. You have no idea what you are talking about. You have no idea what the real dangers are that threaten Arda.”

 

Rúmil felt offended, but remained quiet and stared into the fire, just like the Wizard had done when he had come upon Mithrandir. He still thought the Istar was wrong, but respected Mithrandir too much to point that out to him.

 

Mithrandir fondly looked at Rúmil. The Galadhel was one he could easily lose his heart to, but he had decided long ago that his road was a lonely one, which should be walked alone. He would never endanger a beautiful spirit like Rúmil, who belonged safe and sound in the Golden Wood.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada? It seems the spiders and Orcs have truly retreated this time.” Legolas entered his father’s tent and found Thranduil studying maps and reports. “Most of the injured are on their way to recovery and can be moved to the caves when you say the word.”

 

“How much longer will the Imladris’ guards and the Galadhel stay?” Thranduil was worried. He could only defend his borders if the reinforcements stayed.

 

“Haldir was given no order to return home once the evil was fought back.” Legolas frowned, left the tent and returned with Haldir in tow.

 

Haldir looked fondly at Legolas, who was still pulling him along, and that sweet expression remained on his face when he encountered Thranduil’s green eyes. He had accepted both of them into his heart.

 

“Did Lord Celeborn tell you when to return to the Golden Wood?” asked Thranduil. He needed to know where they stood.

 

Haldir shook his head. “He told me to assist you as long as you have need of us.”

 

Thranduil released a relieved sigh. “If you leave now, the spiders would notice and finish us off.”

 

“We will stay,” said Haldir reassuringly. “And I won’t leave when the summons come to return to the Golden Wood anyway. I have found a new home here.” Haldir was utterly in love and eager to express his feelings whenever he could and he now leaned in to kiss Legolas.

 

Thranduil chuckled, seeing his son’s passionate reaction. He was glad for his son’s happiness, but he couldn’t help feeling somewhat sorry for himself. “Legolas, station enough guards to keep the border safe and gather the rest so we can leave for the caves before nightfall.”

 

Legolas nodded once. “It will be done.” He pulled Haldir along once more, unwilling to part from his lover yet.

 

Thranduil laughed softly, seeing Haldir’s smitten expression when looking at Legolas. A moment later, the laugh faded from his features though and he uncovered Remmen’s portrait once more. “You would have approved of our son’s choice, my love.” Tears suddenly gathered in his eyes. “Oh, I still miss you so much!” He pressed a kiss onto the miniature and then safely tucked it away again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn was lying beneath an ancient mallorn tree, reaching out with his mind. Galadriel had tried to look into her mirror, but the water had remained dark and had kept its secrets to itself. So now he was trying to catch a glimpse of the future. Galadriel sat behind him, and he had rested his head in her lap. Her fingers moved through his silver mane and she was trying to lend him some of her strength so he could cast his mind into the future.

 

“What do you see, love?” Galadriel was worried. Much was at stake here. Her grandsons were part of the rescue party and so was Rúmil. Orophin, she worried about the most. What would Sauron do when having dominion over her adopted son?

 

Celeborn closed his eyes to concentrate on the stream of time, flowing in his mind. “They have reached Dol Guldur…”

 

Galadriel’s heart missed a beat. “What are their plans?”

 

“Mithrandir will act as a distraction whilst the others enter through a secret passageway.” Celeborn’s voice sounded distant and when his eyes opened again, they contained a frightfully blank stare.

 

“And Orophin? Can you see him?” Galadriel gently stroked her husband’s hair, and sensed the ancient power that housed inside the former Prince of Doriath, her love.

 

“He is with Erestor. They are alive… but cold.” Celeborn shivered. “So cold.” An enraged roar echoed in his mind and he quickly pulled back now that Sauron had detected his presence. He blinked once, twice, and drew in a deep breath. “He knows I was there.”

 

Galadriel understood at once. “Sauron should know we won’t allow him to corrupt Orophin and Erestor.”

 

“He knows that, but he thinks we aren’t strong enough to stop him.” Celeborn met her gaze and enjoyed the sweet sensation of her fingers stroking his face. “Mithrandir is determined to free Erestor and Orophin. And they are a formidable group. They will succeed.”

 

Galadriel clung to the hope her husband fed her and pressed a kiss on Celeborn’s forehead.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ah, look at them! I can see why the master coverts them!”

 

A rude, raw voice woke Erestor and Orophin from their shallow slumber. Looking at the doorway they found four Orcs standing there. Erestor, feeling protective of the younger Elf, pulled Orophin close, but the Galadhel wouldn’t have it. As a warrior, Orophin felt it was *his* duty to keep them safe. Within seconds they had left the bed, feeling too vulnerable lying down, and stood next to the bed with their backs against the wall.

 

“Pretty,” commented one of the Orcs, who now put a tray onto the floor inside the cell. “The master told us to bring you some water, though I think it is wasted on the likes of you!”

 

Orophin’s eyes flared with anger and he was about to lash out at them when he felt Erestor’s restraining arm around his waist.

 

“Don’t. They are hoping to start a fight,” warned Erestor. But he could tell it was only a matter of time before Orophin would attack them. The sentry was full of repressed fear and anger and those emotions would eventually need a way out.

 

One of the Orcs stepped into the cell and now stood in front of them. “The master will turn you into one of us. We used to be pretty Elves too.” He gave them a maniacal grin, showing off his sharp teeth.

 

“Never,” hissed Orophin. “We will never become monsters like you!”

 

It was as if the Orcs had been waiting for those words. The other three Orcs now also stormed into the cell and before Erestor knew what was happening he was stumped in the back. More blows followed, most of them aimed at his kidney area. He tried to defend himself and help Orophin at the same time, but the four Orcs were incredibly strong and soon he found himself squirming on the floor, trying to avoid being kicked in the head by holding his arms protectively in front of him.

 

Orophin managed to struggle back to his feet again after the Orcs had pummeled him into submission, but went down again when a fist connected with his temple. Releasing a pain-filled moan, he collapsed into a heap. Now that he was unconscious, the Orcs concentrated their blows and kicks on Erestor.

 

Erestor had curled himself into a fetal position and tried to block the kicks, but to no avail. Pain erupted all over his body.

 

“Stop this!” One of the Nazgûl stood in the doorway and raised a hand, a ring of power attached to his ring finger. “Sauron wants them alive!”

 

The Orcs reluctantly stopped pummeling them and left the cell, throwing dirty looks at the two Elves from over their shoulder.

 

The Ringwraith stepped into the cell and walked toward them. The Elf was unconscious, but the Istar had noticed his presence.

 

Erestor pushed himself into a sitting position and leaned his abused back against the wall. Still seated on the floor he had to look up at the Nazgûl.

 

“You had better give our master what he wants,” said the undead King. “He will claim your soul anyway.”

 

“I won’t give in without a fight. I won’t become like you.” Erestor shivered, looking into the darkness of the hood and finding no face or eyes staring back at him. Acting instinctively, he managed to get hold of Orophin and pulled him close. Orophin moaned in protest, but Erestor ignored it. “You cannot have him. Or me.”

 

The Ringwraith started back for the door again, but not before saying, “Sauron usually gets what he wants. Let my words be a warning to you.” He closed the door behind him and left the two prisoners alone.

 

Orophin groaned in pain, and opened his eyes to find out if their tormentors were still close. Finding only Erestor close, who was battered and bruised as well, he immediately regretted not being more diplomatic. “You were right of course,” he admitted. “They were looking to start a fight.”

 

Although he was hurting as well, Erestor bit down the pain and checked Orophin over, finding bruises and a sprained wrist, but nothing more serious. “You were lucky.”

 

“And what about you?” Orophin drew in a deep breath and gathered his strength. Methodically he checked Erestor for injuries and found one badly bruised rib besides dozens of angry bruises. The burn was also alight with fire. “I am sorry.”

 

Erestor pulled Orophin close and gently patted the hair, which was no longer shiny silver, but covered with grime. “This is just the beginning. It will get a lot worse.”

 

“In what way?” Orophin swallowed hard, realizing Erestor was right.

 

“I am afraid Sauron will use you to make me compliant.” Orophin’s hazel eyes found his. “He will threaten to hurt you if I don’t follow his orders, and my friend, you know I can’t give into his demands.” His heart ached, knowing more pain lay ahead of them. “I don’t want to see you hurt, but…”

 

Orophin nodded once. “You can’t give Sauron what he wants.”

 

“Even if he tortures you in front of me?” Erestor hung his head in defeat. “I don’t know how much of your pain I can endure. He won’t end your life, my friend. He will make you suffer eternally.”

 

Orophin swallowed hard. “And still you can’t give in. I won’t allow it.”

 

“You will be pleading for me to give Sauron what he wants,” said Erestor with frightening certainty.

 

“You mustn’t give up hope!” So far Erestor had been the strong one, pulling him through when fear had threatened to get the better of him. “Elladan will come for us!”

 

Erestor smiled ruefully. There was little Elladan could do against the likes of Sauron.

 

“Maybe Mithrandir will come for us as well?” Orophin gave Erestor a careful look. “Do you think Sauron spoke the truth? And that Mithrandir is your father?”

 

“I don’t know,” repeated Erestor his earlier conclusion.

 

“You should find out.”

 

“How? We are locked up in this cell.”

 

“If you are really your father’s son you might not need to speak to him in person to be able to communicate with him,” suggested Orophin.

 

Erestor closed his eyes. That idea had crossed his mind as well, but what if he reached out and there was nothing? What if no one was coming to their rescue? It would be impossible to hold on to hope then.

 

“You must try! There is too much at stake here!” And Sauron had said something that worried him. “Sauron abducted you for a reason.”

 

Erestor’s eyes opened. “Orophin?”

 

“If you *are* Mithrandir’s son you might have inherited some of his powers as well.” Orophin watched Erestor closely. “Sauron said you had successfully reached out to Glorfindel and that he had heard your call. Maybe he is on his way here too. He also said you were a master of fire. Have you ever tried releasing your powers?”

 

Erestor sighed dramatically. “Orophin, Sauron has lost his mind. I don’t possess any of Mithrandir’s powers.”

 

“Have you tried working them yet?”

 

“No.” Erestor shook his head. “You cannot be serious.”

 

Orophin gathered Erestor’s hands in his and said, “At least try to reach out to Mithrandir or Glorfindel. If you fail, so be it, but at least try!”

 

Erestor studied Orophin long and hard. “I will try, but I doubt I will succeed.”

 

“You won’t know until you have tried.”

 

Beta read by Sulien

All remaining mistakes are mine

 

Part 26

 

 

Mithrandir looked deeply into Glorfindel’s eyes, projecting the route his companions had to take in order to enter Sauron’s stronghold. “Stay clear of the main corridors.”

 

Glorfindel nodded once. “I will head for the dungeons, just as you said.” Now that they had a plan and were nearing Dol Guldur he finally felt more in control of the situation. “Are you certain you can handle Sauron on your own?” This was the one part of their plan he intensely disliked; Mithrandir challenging Sauron in order to distract the Dark One.

 

“He is still considerably weakened,” stated the Istar confidently. “I should be able to distract him and escape intact.”

 

Until now the rest of the party had remained quiet, but unexpectedly Rúmil stepped forward. “Glorfindel is correct. You shouldn’t venture in all by yourself. Please allow me to accompany you.”

 

He should have seen that one coming. “Rúmil, no. You need to free your brother,” said Mithrandir.

 

Rúmil swallowed hard, fighting down any guilt he felt for making this decision. “I am confident that the others will free Erestor and Orophin.” Giving the Wizard a pleading look, he added, “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes had narrowed, watching the two of them. Something about Rúmil’s behavior puzzled him, but the Galadhel had made a valid point. It would be best if Mithrandir had someone to cover his back. “Rúmil’s suggestion makes sense. I am in favor of it.” Mithrandir’s icy blue eyes fixed on him and he shrugged his shoulders once. “It is the truth.”

 

Realizing he was being overruled, Mithrandir gave in. “But know you choose a dangerous path.”

 

Rúmil nodded once. “I understand.”

 

Glorfindel was about to mount Asfaloth when Erestor’s call came, nearly knocking him off his feet with its strength. Mithrandir sensed it as well, but not as strong as Glorfindel did. His son was trying to reach out to Glorfindel, and not to him. He quickly covered the distance to Glorfindel and steadied him. Creating a temporary connection he linked their three minds.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Inside their cell, Erestor grabbed hold of Orophin, who was seated on the bed next to him. “It is them! I can sense them! Glorfindel and Mithrandir!”

 

Orophin smiled weakly, wrapping his arms around Erestor and holding him close. The fact that Erestor had been able to establish this contact confirmed Sauron’s words. Erestor was Mithrandir’s son and part Istar. “Then talk to them.”

 

Erestor didn’t need much encouragement and wrapped his thoughts around Glorfindel’s, welcoming his lover into his mind. /I found you!/

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sensing his son’s need to talk to Glorfindel first, Mithrandir allowed them the privacy, momentarily pulling back mentally.

 

Glorfindel grabbed hold of Mithrandir. Farspeaking was something he had never done before and he reached for support, finding the Wizard closest to him. Much like Erestor was holding on to Orophin, he was holding on to Mithrandir. /I have missed you, Erestor! Oh, there is so much I want to say! I don’t know where to start./

 

Erestor smiled and Orophin reassuringly stroked the long, raven hair, allowing Erestor to use him to ground himself.

 

/There are only three words I need to hear, Glorfindel,/ sent Erestor in nervous waves, hoping the Elda understood.

 

/I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will, but I was a coward and never faced my demons. I have changed, Erestor. I truly have. Elrond made me see what I was doing wrong!/ His thoughts raced toward Erestor’s clinging to the other Elf’s presence in his mind. /I will come for you and free you. Please hold on until we get there. Please stay alive for me./

 

Erestor caught the frantic and panicky tone to Glorfindel’s thoughts and instinctively soothed his lover. /I am alive and relatively well. And so is Orophin. Just don’t take too long freeing us, my love./

 

Glorfindel’s eyes finally released tears of happiness. /You would still call me that after everything I did to you?/ He thanked the Valar for the fact that Erestor was willing to forgive him and that the Elf still loved him.

 

/Of course, my love. I lost my heart to you a long time ago and it has been with you ever since./ Erestor sighed, relieved, that they had been given a chance to sort matters out between them. /I want you to know that I love you, Glorfindel. I want you to know that in case Sauron ends my life. I will wait for you in the Halls of Mandos. We will be reunited there./

 

/Don’t you even dare to think of dying! We are coming to get you and Orophin out! Sauron can’t have you!/ In response to his words came a golden whirlwind, which wrapped itself around his thoughts, spiraling out of control and leaving both of them in an orgasmic high. /I love you!/ he called out when the golden breeze faded away. Drained after this exchange, he clung to Mithrandir. His body throbbed with release, emotional as well as physical and for a long time all he could do was sit and feel the ripples of Erestor’s love in his mind.

 

“Rúmil, take care of Glorfindel.” Mithrandir slowly freed himself of Glorfindel’s tight hold and eased the dazzled Elda against Rúmil, who supported the Balrog Slayer. Now that Glorfindel and Erestor had had their moment, he reached out himself, knowing he needed to talk to his son. /Erestor? Stay a little longer. There are things I need to tell you./

 

Erestor’s eyes widened and Orophin grew worried, feeling his friend tense against him. Holding on tight, he slowly rocked the distressed Elf. He wasn’t privy to the conversation in Erestor’s mind and had no idea what causing the advisor to be upset.

 

/Mithrandir?/ Erestor didn’t know what to say, and waited for the Wizard to take the initiative.

 

/We don’t have much time and… and you need to know that…/ During this moment of truth he faltered.

 

/Sauron said that you are my father,/ sent Erestor, suddenly feeling strangely calm, probably because the situation seemed utterly surreal to him. /Is that true?/

 

Mithrandir drew in a deep, steadying breath. /Yes, it’s true. You are my son./ After that revelation he expected some sort of reaction on Erestor’s part; anger maybe, but not this eerie silence. /Erestor?/

 

Erestor momentarily mentally pulled back from his father and looked into Orophin’s worried eyes. “Sauron spoke the truth. Mithrandir is my father.”

 

Orophin nodded. “I can’t say I am that surprised.”

 

In the meantime, Mithrandir was growing worried. /Erestor? Would you please answer me?/

 

/Why didn’t you tell me?/

 

/Because I didn’t want to upend your life. When I found out about you, you were already Elrond’s chief advisor and I didn’t want to cause any problems in your life./ Reaching out to Erestor, he tried to send all the love and affection he held for him. /I do love you, son./

 

Erestor’s eyes filled with tears, which now rolled down his cheeks. /You should have told me. You could have told me in Lothlórien!/

 

/Please understand. You were already in a great turmoil because of Glorfindel and I didn’t want to add to it. However, I did try to be there for you./ They would need time to build a relationship and he could worry about that later. /First we need to get you out of Dol Guldur./

 

Erestor understood that they had to set aside personal matters and focus on the rescue attempt. /Orophin and I are in a cell below the ground. And we already met Sauron. He wants me to present Glorfindel’s heart to him. He wants to corrupt me./

 

/Be careful, my son. Sauron is cunning and will use his remaining power to turn you to evil. It will take us at least two more days to reach Sauron’s stronghold. You must hold on until then./

 

/Orophin was convinced there would be some sort of rescue attempt. But are you strong enough to challenge Sauron?/

 

/I will distract him, whilst your friends enter the stronghold secretly. They will free you and take you outside./

 

Erestor couldn’t help being curious. /Who did you bring along?/

 

/Elladan and Elrohir. Glorfindel, of course. And Rúmil./ Mithrandir’s gaze sought out Magolion, who was helping Rúmil ground Glorfindel again. /And your brother is here as well./ He felt Erestor’s shock and immediately calmed his son down. /He has changed, Erestor. He is here to help./

 

Erestor didn’t have the energy to argue with Mithrandir as the farspeaking was draining him. /We will discuss this later. What do you want us to do?/

 

/Try to stay alive,/ sent Mithrandir, adding feelings of strength and love. /Find faith in the fact that we are on our way./

 

/Mithrandir?/ Erestor couldn’t call him father yet, that would take more time. /Look after Glorfindel for me. I don’t want him hurt or doing anything rash./

 

/You still love him with your entire heart, don’t you?/

 

/I never stopped loving him,/ replied Erestor, smiling warmly, even though only Orophin could see that smile. /Keep him out of Mandos’ Halls./

 

/I will./ Mithrandir felt the connection weakening and quickly said his goodbyes, promising Erestor to keep Glorfindel safe for him.

 

Erestor collapsed against Orophin, feeling drained but intensely content. “I reached them and talked to them. They are all here. Elladan is there too and so is Rúmil.” He raised his head and smiled at the silver-haired Elf. “We need to hold on until they arrive.”

 

“Elladan is among them? He really loves me then.”

 

“Of course he does! Stop doubting him!” Erestor grinned at his companion. “And once the two of you meet again, you will tell him. Promise me!” Feeling giddy and relieved, he lightly shook the already bruised Galadhel.

 

“I promise!” said Orophin, quickly realizing Erestor was suffering some after effects from using his powers. “Now try to rest. Here, lean against me.”

 

Smiling happily, Erestor obliged and cuddled up to Orophin. Before drifting off in a healing sleep, he checked if his connection with Glorfindel was still intact. Yes, he could still sense his lover and lured into relaxation by Glorfindel’s blissful thoughts, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel was high on love – Erestor’s love, which was still palpable in his mind. He didn’t know what had happened exactly, but he did know that he had shared some sort of mental climax with his dark-haired love. Dazed, he found Mithrandir seated on the grass in front of him, and Magolion and Rúmil at his side, steadying him. “What… happened?”

 

Mithrandir smiled kindly at the Elda. “You just got the first taste of Erestor’s love for you, using his powers. Don’t worry; he will learn to control it in time.” Looking at Rúmil and Elladan, he told them, “Erestor said that Orophin is with him. They are coping with the situation as best as they can.”

 

Rúmil released a shaky sigh and Elladan leaned heavily against Elrohir. Relief was written on their faces. “Thank the Valar,” whispered Rúmil.

 

“I told Erestor to hold on and that we are on our way to free them,” explained Mithrandir. Looking at Glorfindel in concern, he asked, “Can you ride your horse in your current condition? I would like to leave now.”

 

“Oh, we *will* leave! Even if that means you have to tie me to the saddle!” Glorfindel struggled to his feet, aided by Magolion and for once he didn’t feel uncomfortable around the dark-haired Elf. He had seen the awed expression Magolion’s eyes when the Elf had realized that Erestor was still alive and truly was Mithrandir’s son. “We leave now!” Swaying slightly, he continued to hold onto Magolion for support and waited for Rúmil to fetch Asfaloth. He swallowed his pride and allowed Magolion and Elrohir to help him into the saddle. Once he was seated, he said, “What are we waiting for?” and pressed his heels into his stallion’s flanks, who promptly took off.

 

Elrohir chuckled softly. “It looks like Glorfindel is back to his charming old self, leaving us behind and storming into Dol Guldur by himself to save the day.”

 

“Well, we can’t let him get away with that,” said Elladan, grinning. “Orophin is waiting for me.” He swung into the saddle as well and followed Glorfindel, trying to catch up to him.

 

Elrohir and Magolion mounted next and both Elves were with their thoughts with Erestor, relieved that he was still alive and had managed to reassure them.

 

Mithrandir called Shadowfax to him and mounted the graceful stallion. He waited for Rúmil to also mount his horse and then smiled warmly at the Galadhel. “Are you certain you wish to face Sauron with me?”

 

Rúmil nodded determinedly. “I won’t let you face him alone.” The brilliant smile on Mithrandir’s face momentarily took him aback, but then he returned it. As they galloped after the rest of the party, Rúmil felt he had gained a good friend in the Istar.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two Nazgûl escorted Erestor and Orophin to the great hall, where they now awaited Sauron’s arrival. Erestor felt uneasy, as Orophin was being held in place by several Orcs, and one Nazgûl had removed a dagger from his belt, as if acting on unheard instructions. He knew what Sauron had in mind and was afraid that Orophin might not survive, or end up badly injured.

 

Sudden nausea swept through him, feeing Sauron approach. The Dark One had chosen a different form in which to manifest and Erestor’s heart twitched with pain. Sauron had chosen Mithrandir’s form and Erestor averted his eyes, unable to bear the sight of this abomination. He thanked Elbereth that the eye sockets were still hollow or he would have opened his arms to greet his father. But this was Sauron, not Mithrandir.

 

“Did you give my words proper consideration, Istar?” Sauron moved toward his prey, smelling the fear on Orophin, but it was harder to identify Erestor’s emotions, as he was shielding them exceptionally well. This one was a quick learner then.

 

“I will never betray my people,” said Erestor steadfast. “You won’t turn me to evil.”

 

“We will see about that,” whispered Sauron, who came to a standstill behind Erestor. Seeing his prisoner shiver, he realized that Erestor was afraid of him after all; good. “There doesn’t have to be any pain for you or your friend. Have you ever considered the power you would gain? All Elves would serve and obey you. You would own them. Don’t you crave the power? Do you have any idea how it feels, when it surges through your veins?”

 

Erestor determinedly shook his head. “I don’t crave any power.”

 

“What you crave is love,” whispered Sauron into Erestor’s ear. His prisoner tried to move away from him, but one scorching touch kept him in place. He laughed as his touch burned through the fabric of the other’s cloak. “You are a fool, Erestor. Love is fragile. It withers and dies. Power is eternal.” He removed his hand once his touch had burned the skin of Erestor’s arm.

 

Erestor though kept his pain inside. He refused to give Sauron the satisfaction of hearing him call out in agony. He knew this was just the beginning and mentally prepared himself for more torture.

 

Sauron cocked his head, his gray hair dancing against his robes and Mithrandir’s lips, usually displaying a warm smile, now formed a chilling, mocking grin. “Your father betrayed you and your lover no longer wants to be with you. You fled to the Golden Wood and thought you had found a friend in Olórin, whilst in reality he continues to lie to you. Why are you still loyal to the ones that betrayed you?”

 

“You can’t possibly understand,” hissed Erestor. Gathering his courage, he looked at Sauron, focusing his stare on the empty sockets. “You don’t know what love is, or loyalty!”

 

“I knew that once,” said Sauron thoughtfully, “And I found those concepts greatly lacking.” Erestor’s stubbornness frustrated him and he walked away from the Istar. He came to a halt in front of Orophin, and his form changed once more, taking on Haldir’s. He planned on using their weaknesses against them.

 

Orophin felt queasy, looking at Haldir’s face minus his brother’s hazel eyes. Sauron continued to study him and he began to tremble, wishing there was a way out for him, but the Orcs had moved away and now one of the Nazgûl was keeping him in place.

 

“And you, my fair young warrior, don’t you crave the power of making the one you love, love you back? What is his name? Elladan? A half-Elf!” Disgusted, Sauron shook his head. “I can hardly believe that you would choose to be with one whose blood is defiled by that of Man!”

 

Orophin bit his bottom lip, determined not to give in to his rage. Anger was a negative emotion and Sauron would feed off of it. His gaze suddenly found Erestor’s and he saw the pride in them when he held back his anger. “Love is beyond your comprehension, creature of darkness.”

 

Sauron hissed angrily and struck Orophin across the face. The silver-haired Elf released a terrifying wail and collapsed onto his knees. His face was on fire and so was his hair.

 

Erestor wasted no time, undid his traveling cloak and used the fabric to smother the fire. “Oh, my friend.” An angry burn marred the once alabaster skin and a patch of hair had been burned from the skull. “Leave him alone! It is me you want!”

 

“But, Erestor, you refuse to give me what I want, so I take away what is dear to you.” Sauron smiled and cocked his head, looking down at the two prisoners. Erestor was helping Orophin back to his feet, but he wouldn’t have it. Speaking a word of power, the Galadhel was catapulted through the hall, crashing hard into the opposite wall. With an agonized scream, Orophin slid down the wall and landed in a heap on the floor.

 

Erestor wanted to help Orophin once more, but this time Sauron’s burning touch stopped him. Sauron had placed a hand on his shoulder and he quickly jerked away, promptly crashing into the Nazgûl. An inhuman cold slashed through him and the breath that left his lips crystallized in the air, so cold it was.

 

“You do realize you are fighting a lost battle, love?”

 

Glorfindel’s voice, so familiar, so trustworthy, suddenly echoed in his ear and his heart thundered madly, for one insane moment hoping that his lover had already found him. But as he looked over his shoulder, he found empty eyes in his lover’s face. “Leave me alone!” He stumbled backwards, landed unceremoniously on his backside, and moved toward the wall where Orophin had been smitten. Finally, he reached his friend and pulled Orophin close, ignoring the pained groans that fled the sentry’s lips. “Just leave us alone!”

 

Sauron’s cold laughter echoed through the hall as he returned to his throne. When he looked at Erestor, his shape had changed again.

 

Erestor shuddered, looking at his mirror image, seated on the throne of bones. Sauron was playing him cunningly, constantly keeping him off balance and suddenly he wondered if they could survive two whole days of this torture.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“This is where we part,” announced Mithrandir, grateful that Glorfindel had calmed down. The Elda would now lead their companions through a labyrinth of corridors that would take them deep into Sauron’s keep. “Do you still remember the way?”

 

Glorfindel nodded. “We will wait for your fireball to tell us that the time has come to search for Erestor and Orophin.” The fireball would be the sign that Mithrandir was inside the keep and keeping Sauron busy.

 

Rúmil and Mithrandir watched the group venture into the caves, which would eventually take them into Sauron’s stronghold. “Maybe the Valar bless them and keep them safe,” whispered the silver-haired sentry. Again, Mithrandir’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

 

“We will succeed in freeing them,” stated Mithrandir, hiding the sudden stabbing he felt when Erestor was wounded by Sauron.

 

“Mithrandir?” Rúmil had caught the changed expression in the Istar’s eyes and quickly steadied him by placing a hand at the small of Mithrandir’s back.

 

“It is Sauron… He is hurting them…” Ancient discipline allowed him to push back the pain and he focused on Rúmil instead. “We should leave now or we will be too late.” On the second day, they would walk into Sauron’s hall and challenge the Dark One. They had to be on time!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor and Orophin huddled close now that they had been returned to the relative safety of their cell. Orophin ached in places he had never known existed and now rested in Erestor’s arms. Shivering from the cold, he tried to move even closer. “C-c-cold.”

 

Cold as well, Erestor nodded once and then tucked Orophin’s head beneath his chin. He wrapped arms and legs around his friend and tried to make the best of sharing his body heat.

 

“Sau…ron s-said you are… a m-master o-of fire,” stuttered Orophin. The combination of pain and cold was making it hard for him to speak coherently. “Can’t you ma... make f-fire?”

 

“I never tried such a thing before.” Erestor wasn’t sure he possessed the power Sauron professed he did. “And let us assume I can create fire, what if I burn us?”

 

“You will b-be care… ful,” mumbled Orophin shakily. “Pl-please?”

 

Erestor sighed, distressed. “I will try, but don’t expect me to succeed.” Orophin remained quiet and Erestor saw confidence and faith in his friend’s hazel eyes. Following his instincts, he closed his eyes, imagining a small fire warming their cell. When he opened his eyes again, nothing had happened. The cold was still there. “It isn’t working.”

 

/It doesn’t work that way, my son./

 

Unexpectedly hearing Mithrandir’s voice in his mind startled Erestor, but he quickly accepted his father’s presence in his mind. /Then how do I do this? Orophin is injured and cold… So am I. But I don’t feel the cold as much as he does./

 

/You are trying to create fire outside yourself. Try to start it inside yourself./

 

/Won’t I burn myself to a cinder then?/

 

“Erestor… What…?” Orophin had seen the distant expression in the chocolate brown eyes and grew worried.

 

Erestor shushed him and mouthed Mithrandir’s name.

 

/You don’t want to create *that* kind of fire. Imagine yourself feeling warm… warmer… even warmer… You can feel the heat pour out of your pores…/ Mithrandir guided his son until he felt Erestor’s powers respond.

 

Orophin stared at Erestor in surprise when the Elf’s cold skin suddenly tingled with warmth beneath his touch. Not questioning his luck, he pressed as close as possible, practically soaking up his friend’s warmth.

 

Erestor smiled as a warm glow surrounded them. /Thank you./ He drew comfort from the fact that his father was in his mind.

 

/What did Sauron do? You sound weaker than when we talked last./

 

/Sauron tried to ‘persuade’ me to support him and renounce my ways. I refused./

 

/And you paid the price./

 

/The price Orophin paid is the highest. Our healing ability seems impaired and our wounds aren’t mending./ Erestor soothingly stroked Orophin’s dirty hair. /I can only hope we will survive until you arrive./

 

/Sauron will pay for doing this to you, but part of this is my fault too. I triggered the release of your powers, but didn’t warn you or teach you how to shield yourself from evil. I never thought Sauron would react this quickly./

 

/It wasn’t your fault,/ offered Erestor, /It is Sauron’s./ It was time to change the subject. /How fares Glorfindel?/

 

/He is determined to free you. He will lead the rest of our group into the labyrinth beneath Sauron’s stronghold. They will quickly come for you and Orophin./ Mithrandir smiled. /He does love you./

 

Erestor sighed contently. /I had given up hope./

 

/Elladan told me that Glorfindel acted at once when he heard your call. Elladan came upon Glorfindel fully armed and ready to leave Imladris. I searched Glorfindel’s eyes, and his soul, and he is willing to work on the issues that kept you apart in the past./

 

Suddenly the door to his cell opened and one of the Ringwraiths stepped inside. Erestor instinctively severed the connection with his father, not wanting Sauron or his minions to realize that he was able to communicate with his father.

 

“Sauron wants to see you… The both of you. Get to your feet. Now,” the Nazgûl’s cold and metallic voice echoed through the cell.

 

Erestor drew in a deep breath, vowing to protect Orophin to his best ability. Sauron would doubtlessly threaten and hurt the Galadhel in an effort to break him. “We won’t break, Orophin. We won’t.”

 

Beta read by Sulien

All mistakes are mine

 

Part 27

 

 

“Legolas? I think we are done here.” Haldir was satisfied with the amount of sentries guarding the borders to Dol Guldur and felt they could join Thranduil again. For now, Fuinglad was as safe as possible.

 

“I agree.” Legolas nodded once, and walked toward Haldir. Now that the last guards had been assigned, they could return to the caves where they would be safe. “I hope the spiders and Orcs won’t return for quite some time. We need to regroup and give the wounded time to heal.”

 

Mounting their horses, they steered their mounts to the heart of Mirkwood, both of them eager to be reunited with Thranduil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas suddenly stood upright in the stirrups, bringing in his horse to an abrupt stop.

 

Behind him, Haldir cursed softly, as his horse had almost crashed into his lover’s. “What is amiss?” Since setting foot on these lands, he had realized that Legolas’ senses were intensified through his connection with the forest. Had Legolas picked up on something? Orcs? Spiders?

 

Legolas’ azure eyes probed Haldir’s when his lover came to a halt beside him. “I sense something…”

 

Haldir waited patiently, giving Legolas the time and quiet the Woodland Elf needed to concentrate.

 

“Elves in the heart of Dol Guldur.” He cocked his head and listened to what the trees, animals – the very earth itself told him. “Elves and Istari.” Legolas frowned. “The trees whisper Mithrandir’s name to me.”

 

“Mithrandir? Why would he enter Dol Guldur?” Haldir didn’t like this one bit. “Something must be amiss. Shouldn’t we find out what Mithrandir is doing in Dol Guldur? And if he needs help?”

 

Legolas considered their options. He preferred to return to his father’s side, but Mithrandir’s presence in Dol Guldur sincerely worried him. “You might be right. We need to find out why he is here and if he needs our assistance.”

 

“Should we send a messenger to inform your father that we aren’t returning yet?”

 

Legolas shook his head. “He already knows. I just told him.” Farspeaking with Thranduil was something that happened automatically. He didn’t even have to concentrate to reach out to his father. “He isn’t pleased that we are heading for Dol Guldur, but agrees we need to check on Mithrandir’s presence.”

 

Haldir waited for Legolas to turn his horse around and followed his lover when the Prince set off in the opposite direction they had been traveling in. His gaze remained fixed on Legolas’ back, determined not to let the golden-haired Elf out of his sight now that they were entering Dol Guldur.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil gnashed his teeth, realizing Legolas was indeed headed for the heart of Dol Guldur. He had sensed Mithrandir’s presence as well, but had brushed the matter aside and had focused on his own people’s needs instead, knowing that the Istar could take care of himself. He didn’t know why Mithrandir was here, and hadn’t intended to find out, but Legolas had decided differently. He found comfort in the fact that Legolas wasn’t alone – that Haldir was with him. At least they were together and hopefully they would take good care of each other.

 

In the meantime he would concentrate on taking his people to the caves, where they would make themselves a permanent home, now that dwelling high up in the telain was out of the question. He would miss the golden sun light, but at least this way they could survive.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Do you really plan on marching right into Sauron’s keep?” Rúmil felt awed, now that he fully realized Mithrandir’s plan.

 

“Sauron is still weakened. He is hiding in Dol Guldur to prevent a confrontation with the White Council. He will be the weaker one during our confrontation. I will force him to hand over Erestor and Orophin if he refuses to do so voluntarily.”

 

Rúmil nodded his head once. “I do hope they are still well. I worry about them.”

 

“Erestor is still alive, I can tell you that much,” said Mithrandir. He regretted losing contact with his son, but had also felt the Nazgûl’s arrival. It had been too dangerous for Erestor to maintain their connection. “And I am sure he will do his best to keep Orophin safe as well. Take heart, my friend.” He briefly rested a hand on Rúmil’s left shoulder to offer the Galadhel some consolation. “We will reclaim them.”

 

Looking at the horizon, Rúmil shivered, realizing night was already upon them. They were making process gradually, but wished they could travel faster. That would be of no use though, as Glorfindel’s party needed time to pass through the underground labyrinth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tremors briefly shook Glorfindel’s body, upon entering the labyrinth of corridors beneath Sauron’s keep. Evil was all around them, and served as a warning to remain alert. Looking over his shoulder, he studied his companions’ faces one by one. Elladan was determined to free Orophin – he could actually see the loving expression in the gray eyes and Elrohir stood beside his twin – a rock of ever present support. Magolion walked behind them, in Elladan’s shadow, but always remained close to Elrohir. Glorfindel had seen the desire in the glances Magolion and Elrohir shared regularly and wondered if Elrond knew and approved of their love. He couldn’t help feeling apprehensive, remembering how Magolion had played him. But then again, he himself had changed – why not Magolion?

 

Sighing, he turned around and signaled for them to follow him into the dark labyrinth. Mithrandir had imprinted the route he needed to take in his mind and he could lead them blindly if necessary.

 

In the back of his mind however, he felt Erestor’s growing panic. His lover was trying to shield his terror from him, but was doing a poor job, as Erestor was subconsciously reaching for his support. /Please hold on, my love. We are coming for you./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor and Orophin clung to each other whilst following the Nazgûl down the corridor. This time they weren’t led to Sauron’s throne room, but deeper underground. A burning sensation in Erestor’s stomach warned him that something horrible was about to happen. He could feel it.

 

“I am not afraid,” whispered Orophin into Erestor’s ear. “I am not afraid. No matter what they to do us, we won’t break. It is just like you said; we won’t break.”

 

Erestor immediately tried to soothe his trembling companion. Orophin was in a worse state than he, thanks to Sauron flinging the Galadhel into the opposite wall of the hall. Orophin’s gaze was glazed over, and the silver-haired Elf was unsteady on his feet. Erestor cursed the fact that their healing ability was impaired in this wretched place, and hoped Glorfindel and Mithrandir would quickly come for them.

 

His worst fears came true when they were pushed inside a large room, which was equipped with several instruments of torture. /Please Elbereth, don’t let Sauron hurt us any more./ But it was wishful thinking and he knew it. They were maneuvered into a corner, next to the fire place, and waited quietly for what was to come.

 

When Sauron entered a few moments later, Erestor felt a glaring anger toward the fallen Maia. Why was Sauron tormenting Orophin when it was he Sauron wanted? But he also knew he was in no position to argue.

 

“I gave you some time to think,” said Sauron, this time in Elrond’s guise. Long, burgundy robes dragged behind him as he came to a stand still near Erestor.

 

A distant and very rational part of Erestor’s brain noted that Sauron was one for detail. His dark hair had been braided in the current Imladris’ style, complete with knots and a butterfly hair pin, keeping the mane in place. Hatred flared inside him and he bared his teeth, looking at his nemesis. “I already told you no before. I won’t betray my people and I will never serve you!”

 

Sauron smiled sweetly, and Erestor shivered, seeing the empty eye sockets in Elrond’s face, reminding him who he was truly dealing with. Protectively, he pulled Orophin close, instinctively knowing Sauron would continue to use Orophin against him. Unexpectedly, several Orcs appeared and tried to pull Orophin away from him. Anger burned his insides and he snapped at them. “Keep your filthy hands off of him!”

 

Orophin’s eyes widened slightly at Erestor’s authoritative tone – he couldn’t remember ever hearing it before. “Erestor…”

 

“No,” hissed Erestor, trying to glare the Orcs into submission, “They cannot have you! I won’t allow it!”

 

But the Orcs managed to pry Erestor’s hands off of Orophin’s body and pushed the Galadhel toward the fire. One of the Orcs took hold of the iron that had grown warm while resting in the flames and Erestor’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, realizing they were pressing the hot iron into Orophin’s neck. “Don’t you dare…”

 

He never knew what happened that moment, but something inside him burst. The fire that had been burning in the fire place turned into wriggling snakes, reaching for the Orc’s wrists, curling around them and making the foul creature scream in pain.

 

Erestor immediately reclaimed Orophin and pulled the silver-haired Elf toward him. Orophin was moaning in pain, as the echo of the iron still burned his skin.

 

“Impressive…” Sauron had greedily watched the exchange, seeing his suspicions finally confirmed. “You *do* control the fire.” Olórin needed a ring of power to command the fire, but to Erestor it came naturally, which pleased him immensely. “I will break you personally, Istar.”

 

Finally understanding what he had done in order to free Orophin stunned Erestor. Had he really commanded those flames? And if he had, did that mean he could use the fire against Sauron? Had he a weapon when he had thought to be powerless? He was about to command the fire to attack Sauron next when an Orc threw a bucket of water onto the fire, extinguishing it, taking away Erestor’s hope. “No!”

 

“Oh, yes,” mumbled Sauron, whose form was changing again.

 

Once more was Erestor forced to look at his mirror reflection, and he shuddered at the lack of eyes. But some of his fear for Sauron had dwindled. The Dark One could be defeated! He had realized his enemy’s weakness and when the right time came, he would make good use of that knowledge.

 

“I need to think on this,” said Sauron thoughtfully. Erestor’s sudden and unexpected display of power had pleased him, but it also presented him with additional problems. “Take them back to their cell and make sure all fire close to their cell is extinguished. I am not taking any risks.”

 

The Nazgûl, who had been addressed, nodded, indicating he had understood. “Your wish will be done.”

 

Erestor held Orophin close to him on their way back to their cell. Once the door had been closed behind them, he brushed away the silver hair, finding some strands had been burned as well. Examining the burn, he grew angry again. “It will heal in time.” He wished he had a soothing balm, but all he had was some tepid water. He soaked a piece of fabric in the water and then pressed it against Orophin’s neck.

 

“You took a great risk back there,” said Orophin thoughtfully. “I am honored that you want to look out for me, but you need to be careful. Sauron wants you – always remember that. I am just a means to his goals.”

 

“But I now have a weapon!” Erestor gave him a triumphant look.

 

“Sauron was correct when he said you could command fire. But what do we do with that knowledge now that all fire has been extinguished?”

 

“He will be more careful now,” said Erestor slowly. “I have no control over this power and that makes me dangerous – to him as well as to us. Orophin, I could burn you by accident. Always be careful around fire.”

 

Orophin nodded in understanding. “You need to master this skill quickly.”

 

“That won’t be easy, with no fire to experiment with.” Erestor sighed deeply. “I wish Mithrandir and Glorfindel were here already – and yes, Elladan as well,” he added, seeing Orophin’s hopeful look. “They will come for us. I know it. Glorfindel tells me so all the time. I want to reach out to him and assure them that we are coping, but I don’t want Sauron or the Nazgûl to realize I can communicate with him and Mithrandir.”

 

“Understandable.” Orophin sat down on their bed and bowed his head, allowing Erestor to put the re-soaked cloth back onto his burned neck. “For one moment I thought…”

 

“Don’t say it,” advised Erestor. “Don’t even think it. Don’t give him that much power over you.” He had sensed the younger Elf’s fear when the iron had burned itself a way through his skin and it had probably been the main reason for him to involuntarily set free his powers. “He must be growing frustrated with the fact that he cannot command us. All we need is time.”

 

Orophin looked at Erestor – his features momentarily contorting when the burned, brittle skin protested. “Do we have that time?” How long would it take for Mithrandir to free them?

 

“We must put our faith in them.” Erestor wrapped his arms around Orophin and pulled the Galadhel down onto the bed with him. After maneuvering them into a comfortable position, he carefully pressed his friend close, offering all the comfort he could. “Why don’t you rest for a while? I doubt Sauron will come for us again so quickly. Maybe a rest will help you heal.”

 

Orophin allowed Erestor to hold him. Before drifting off into an exhausted sleep, he wished it was Elladan holding him.

 

Erestor however found it impossible to sleep. The fact that he had commanded the fire to attack the Orcs kept him awake – and puzzled. Mithrandir had hinted at hidden powers, and now that some of them had been unleashed, he wondered about the extent of them. How strong a fire could he control? And would it help him to keep Sauron at bay? Reaching out for Mithrandir, he was disappointed when he failed to make contact with his father.

 

His father. Now that was a concept he had to grow used to. He finally knew the identity of his father. Mithrandir, one of the Istari, had sired him and he had inherited some of his father’s powers. What did that make him? More than Elven? Sauron had repeatedly addressed him as an Istari.

 

His thoughts raced and he forced them to calm down. Only Mithrandir could answer his questions and he could only hope his father would arrive quickly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Why do you think Mithrandir ventured into Dol Guldur?” asked Haldir curiously, whilst keeping one eye on the darkening sky above them. The storm that was brewing would cause them to seek out shelter shortly.

 

“Mithrandir’s ways are unpredictable,” replied Legolas, who was also looking out for a suitable shelter. “What I am most puzzled about is that there are some Elves with him.”

 

Haldir had spied a cave to their right, alerted Legolas of his find and together they went inside. The first, fat droplets of rain had begun to fall and the wind roared in their ears. After taking care of their horses, they sat down themselves and Legolas watched Haldir build a small fire. “Do you have any idea who is with him? Did the trees tell you their names? And how many are there?” 

 

Legolas leaned against his lover and stared into the flames. “Glorfindel’s name is one the wind carried to me, but there are more.” He carefully made eye contact with his mate. “Rúmil is among them as well.”

 

“Rúmil?” Haldir’s eyes revealed utter surprise. “My brother? Why is he here?”

 

“He is accompanying Mithrandir. The group split up some time ago.” Legolas still heard faint echoes of what the lands were telling him, but the contact was weakening now that they had entered Dol Guldur and had left Mirkwood. It wouldn’t be long before he lost contact with the land all together.

 

“Rúmil is with Mithrandir,” summarized Haldir, wondering why his brother had left the Golden Wood in the first place. “We need to catch up with them!”

 

“I am not certain we will be able to do that. They have a head start.” Legolas looked at the entrance of the cave. The storm outside was growing stronger and would keep them confined to this cave for quite some time. “We are stuck here.”

 

Although Haldir was still worried about Rúmil’s presence in Dol Guldur, he also realized the chance he was given. He was finally alone with his lover, and they were stuck, unable to leave any time soon. He should take advantage of this moment. Leaning in closer, he placed one finger beneath Legolas’ chin and gently forced his lover to look at him. Seeing the lust and love in the smoldering azure eyes, he smiled, realizing Legolas had been thinking the same thing. “We should make good use of this moment.”

 

“Do you wish to make love?” Legolas moved closer to Haldir, gently claiming his lips.

 

“Yes, I do, my love,” whispered Haldir softly. “Are you of the same heart or do you wish to wait?”

 

“I want you too,” admitted Legolas, “Would you allow me to make love to you first?”

 

Haldir nodded; he had gathered he would be in for some surprises when becoming intimate with Legolas for the first time, considering the fact that the silver-haired Elf was able to conceive. He just wondered what kind of surprises he would run into.

 

“Please lie down, love,” Legolas whispered softly, easing Haldir down onto his back. Looking into the hazel eyes, he wished he had more time to worship his lover’s body, but he also knew they had to move on when the storm died. “I love you, my beautiful Haldir.”

 

Haldir raised a hand and brushed a wayward lock from Legolas’ face. His lover’s blue eyes blazed with need and love, and equal to his own. “Take me, Legolas.” His body and mind both desired this union, and when Legolas began to undress him, he savored the soft touch of his lover’s fingers on his skin. For some reason he had expected their first time to be different; he had expected Legolas to ask him to take him and he had thought they would be moving wildly, impatiently.

 

“I hope I won’t disappoint you,” whispered Legolas, a moment of uncertainly coloring his voice. “I have never done this before.” For one moment he hesitated, but seeing Haldir’s eyes – shining with confidence – he knew his lover would eagerly accept whatever he was able to give. “Will you guide me?”

 

Haldir nodded once more and raised his hips to aid Legolas in removing his breeches. Now that he was completely naked, he purred, pulling his lover closer to him. Their lips met in a searing kiss, and adrenaline filled their veins.

 

Legolas forced himself to end the kiss, as he wanted to admire his lover’s body and pulled back, letting his gaze sweep over Haldir’s naked form. The warrior was muscular, but his body had managed to maintain its elegance and leanness. Running his fingertips down Haldir’s chest, he grinned, when his lover’s erection rose to meet his touch. “We went awfully fast these last few days. Only a few weeks ago I had no idea you were attracted to me and now we are bound.”

 

“It was my greatest desire,” admitted Haldir, who now began to undo the lacing to Legolas’ shirt. Sliding it down the elegant shoulders, he marveled at his lover’s beauty. He smirked, giving Legolas a mischievous look. 

 

“What is it?” Legolas shrugged out of his shirt and watched, amused, as Haldir’s hands now worked on undoing the laces of his breeches.

 

“I half expected you to have breasts,” said Haldir teasingly. He knew he had to tread carefully, as Legolas hadn’t volunteered more information about his body being designed to carry a child.

 

“Breasts?” Legolas threw back his head and burst out laughing. “Oh, dear, this is going to be quite the experience for you!” He quickly stood, removed his breeches and threw them on the pile of Haldir’s clothes. Being naked as well, he straddled Haldir’s hips, smiling smugly. Their gazes met and he leaned in closer again to lick his way down his lover’s chest. When he finally encountered Haldir’s erection, he looked up, giving the Galadhel a wicked smile and then closed his lips over the hot flesh.

 

Haldir’s eyes closed in rapture, concentrating on the sensations Legolas was causing in his body. Legolas had asked for his guidance, but he now wondered if his lover needed any guidance at all. Unexpectedly, one of Legolas’ fingertips teased against his lips and he opened willingly in understanding, bathing the digit in saliva. He would have preferred to use some oil to smooth Legolas’ way in, but they simply didn’t have any . Maybe they wouldn’t need it after all, as the golden-haired Elf’s tongue proved extremely talented, almost bringing him to orgasm. “Not yet,” he groaned, placing his hands on either side of Legolas’ head and gently easing the Woodland Elf’s lips away from his throbbing shaft.

 

Legolas’ red lips, dark blue eyes and flushed face made Haldir ache with need for his lover to finish this, but it was now time for him to explore in turn. After bringing up his arms behind Legolas’ back, he rolled his lover onto his back, straddling Legolas now that they had reversed positions. “Let me touch you.”

 

Legolas looked at him with misty, dark blue eyes, and as he slowly ran his fingers down his lover’s body, he showered the other’s skin with tiny kisses. Wrapping his fingers tightly around Legolas’ erection, he smiled smugly, hearing his lover moan and seeing him instinctively arch his back. Oh, he was already looking forward to the day when he could make Legolas his completely!

 

Taking Legolas’ lips in a passionate kiss, his fingers slid down his lover’s length and explored lower. He released a strangled moan, revealing utter surprise when encountering not one, but two openings. “Love?” He had released Legolas’ lips during this discovery and now looked at him for an explanation.

 

“Take me in a male’s way when we make love, until the very day that you want me to conceive.”

 

Haldir nodded in understanding, and then grinned wickedly. “This is going to be quite interesting.”

 

Legolas purred softly when Haldir bowed down to take his erection into his mouth, bestowing the same treatment on him which he had given the Galadhel but a moment before. He placed one hand on the bobbing head and watched thoughtfully, wondering what he had done to gain Haldir’s love. The Galadhel and he were perfectly matched and he suspected Haldir was already thinking of ways to take him. But first he wanted to claim Haldir as his own. “Please, love…” Haldir had brought him to the brink of orgasm, like he had done to Haldir, and now the silver-haired Elf pulled back – the smug smirk still in place.

 

“How do you want me?” He had coated his lover’s erection with his saliva and hoped it was enough to make their first time pleasurable.

 

Legolas’ thoughts raced. He had heard – and accidentally seen males making love before – but to actually do it was different. “Turn around.”

 

Haldir kissed him sweetly and then complied, turning around and presenting himself to his lover on his hands and knees. “Be gentle,” he advised. Looking over his shoulder he found the way Legolas was nibbling on his bottom lip utterly desirable.

 

Kneeling behind his lover, Legolas parted the firm buttocks and let his finger slide down the cleft. “Tell me if it hurts and I will stop.”

 

“A little pain doesn’t matter to me,” said Haldir, trying to assure his obviously wavering lover. “You will do everything right.” He pushed back, rubbing his backside against his lover’s erection.

 

Legolas swallowed hard, suddenly feeling more nervous than excited. He positioned himself and slowly -- very slowly -- began to push inside.

 

Haldir took shallow breaths, willing himself to relax and it worked. Legolas was slowly inching inside and before they knew it, the Woodland Elf was completely sheathed inside him. Legolas felt huge, but at the same time the sensation of being utterly full excited him even further. “Thrust, love.”

 

Legolas had closely monitored Haldir and now that he was convinced that his lover was fine, he experimentally thrust. Haldir moaned luxuriously, pushed back and seemed to drive him in even deeper. Losing himself in the next sensations – a tight glove gripping him, and Haldir’s deep, throaty moans – Legolas set a faster rhythm.

 

Haldir reached beneath himself, curled his fingers around his erection and stroked firmly. “Won’t… last long…”

 

“Oh … me neither…” Legolas was panting softly and a fine film of sweat had formed over his entire body. “So close…” Running his hand along Haldir’s spine, he ended up cupping a firm buttock and squeezing it. Once he realized that Haldir was bringing himself to orgasm, his own lust flared and he leaned in closer to nibble on Haldir’s earlobe. “Thank you… for giving yourself… to me.” Burying himself inside with one last, firm thrust, he quivered against Haldir, finally finding release.

 

Haldir reached his climax at the same time, and his eyes widened at the sensual sensation that claimed him. He had made love before, but it had never felt this intense.

 

Legolas groaned in surprise, as Haldir’s inner muscle contracted around his still throbbing member, and he sucked the skin beneath his lover’s ear, leaving behind a passion mark. Finding the strength to pull back, he sighed deeply, wishing they had lasted longer.

 

“Oh,” Haldir moaned at the loss now that Legolas’ sated sex was leaving his body and quickly cast a glance over his shoulder at this Prince. The need for words was gone as they stared into each other’s eyes, and they remained quiet, savoring the moment.

 

Legolas wrapped his arms around his lover, and eased him down onto his side. Lying down opposite the silver-haired Elf, he pulled Haldir close, also wrapping his long legs around his lover’s form. “We have consummated our marriage, my husband.”

 

Haldir smiled at the formal words. “We made love, Legolas.” But he reckoned it meant more for Legolas. “And once the battles are over, we will make a beautiful baby.”

 

Legolas’ eyes blazed with joy at hearing those words. “You really want a family, don’t you?” It had been his greatest relief to find out that Haldir wanted children with him. Not many males would agree to such a thing. But Haldir actually seemed impatient, ready to start trying. “How many children do you want?”

 

“Oh, a boy and a girl would be nice. Boys especially. I do have some experience raising them,” he hinted, and suddenly his troubled thoughts about Rúmil surfaced again.

 

Legolas sensed the change in his lover and quickly realized what it was about. “Rúmil is with Mithrandir. The powerful Istar will keep him safe.”

 

“I hope so,” said Haldir, sighing. Concentrating on his lover again, he gently caressed Legolas’ face. “You made me the happiest Elf alive by accepting my love for you.”

 

Legolas opted for action instead of words and kissed Haldir passionately. He held Haldir until the storm had calmed down and when they dressed again, things between them had changed again. This time they were truly lovers.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

Part 28

 

 

The darkness seemed never-ending as they made their way through the labyrinth beneath Sauron’s keep. Glorfindel clung to the fact that he still sensed Erestor’s presence in his mind, though something had changed with their connection. It felt more intense to him, almost like a blazing fire between them. At a loss to explain the new sensation, he focused on guiding his companions through the labyrinth.

 

“Glorfindel?” Magolion still felt somewhat hesitant around the blond Elda, but had eventually decided to approach Glorfindel. “Can you still sense Erestor?” Ever since this worry had been born inside his soul, he couldn’t stop thinking about his half-brother and all the ways he had hurt him. He had even found himself praying to Elbereth, hoping to find Erestor alive.

 

“He is still alive,” said Glorfindel after thoroughly searching Magolion’s face. “You will be the last person he expects to come after him.”

 

“I know that,” replied Magolion, bowing his head. “But I have to make amends. At least I have to try.” He became aware of Elrohir’s hand, which now rested at the small of his back, and he quickly grabbed the half-Elf’s hand, needing to feel him close. “Do you think Erestor will forgive me?” Pleadingly, he looked at Glorfindel.

 

“I don’t know,” said Glorfindel honestly. “You will have to ask him and find out.” He quickly averted his eyes, hoping Erestor would also forgive him for pushing him away.

 

“How much longer?” inquired Elladan, who was growing impatient to be reunited with Orophin.

 

“A few more hours,” reckoned Glorfindel. He was impatient himself, wanting to hold Erestor in his arms again. Therefore he completely understood Elladan’s unease. /Erestor, we are coming for you and Orophin. Just hold on a little longer./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor glared at the Orcs, which were dragging Orophin and him through the corridors. He quickly realized their destination; they were headed for the torture chamber once more, and this time Sauron wouldn’t keep any fire alight around them. They would be utterly defenseless.

 

Supporting Orophin, his worry for the Galadhel increased. Several burns had set his skin on fire, and his brow had felt hot when he had rested a hand on it. Elves normally didn’t develop a fever, but here in Dol Guldur with Sauron close things were different.

 

Erestor caught Orophin when the Orcs brutally pushed them into the corner of the dungeon, keeping the Galadhel upright. Holding an arm tightly wrapped around his companion, he held his head high when the Dark Lord entered, flanked by two Ringwraiths. Sauron had chosen to manifest in Glorfindel’s form again and Erestor’s heart ached for his lover, but he pushed any thoughts of the Balrog Slayer away. He couldn’t take the risk that Sauron somehow read his thoughts and discovered a rescue party was on its way.

 

At the flick of Sauron’s wrist, two small Elven children were pushed inside, being manhandled into a submissive position by the Orcs.

 

Erestor’s stomach tensed with apprehension. He was afraid he knew why Sauron had ordered the children here. “Let them go.”

 

“Will you do as you are told when I let them go?” Glorfindel’s voice echoed through the room, as Sauron tried to unbalance Erestor further. “Will you serve me?”

 

Erestor then realized his diabolical dilemma. “I cannot obey you – or serve you.”

 

“Then I will kill them,” announced Sauron evilly. Another flick of his wrist signed the two children’s death warrants and the Orcs moved quickly, cruelly beheading them.

 

Erestor stared in utter shock at the girl’s head that came to a halt near his feet. Tears erupted from his eyes, mourning the loss of such young lives. Orophin, next to him stirred, but in his feverish state the Galadhel didn’t fully register reality.

 

“You monster!” hissed Erestor, finding it hard to look at the corpses that now rested on the floor. Blood was spreading beneath the tiny bodies and for one moment he wished he could turn back time and save their lives. But how? How could he have saved them? Accepting Sauron as his master was out of the question. He was still trying to deal with the shock of seeing those two children die when the bodies grew transparent until they had faded away from view. Even the blood had disappeared and he realized he had been masterfully manipulated by Sauron. “They weren’t real.”

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find Elven children in these remote parts?” Sauron stalked closer, this time coming to a halt behind Erestor. At his signal, the Orcs pulled Orophin away from the dark-haired advisor.

 

Erestor tried to reach for Orophin and establish a hold on the sentry again, but the Orcs had smashed the Galadhel face first into the stone wall. Orophin never released a sound, and slid down the wall, landing in a pathetic heap. “Leave him alone!” How many times already had he come to Orophin’s defense? And every time the sentry ended up in a worse state.

 

But this time Sauron’s presence behind him kept him from moving closer to Orophin and he stilled his movements. A gloved hand sneaked toward his face and he involuntarily sucked in his breath when glove and skin came into contact with each other, expecting to be burned again. Part of his face still carried the burn Sauron had inflicted the first time they had met. He wanted to tell the other off, but knew he was in no position to do so. Sauron, still standing behind him, leaned in closer and whispered into his ear.

 

“Why don’t you pretend I am Glorfindel, the one you love? Stay with me for the rest of eternity. The real Elda rejected you, but I won’t. You can stay and become my lover.”

 

The sound of Glorfindel’s soft, caring voice sent shivers of longing and pain through Erestor’s mind. It would be so easy to let Sauron weave this spell around him and bind him, but sensing the real Glorfindel in his mind grounded him. “You are not Glorfindel, Sauron. You won’t succeed in making me believe you are.”

 

Sauron hissed in frustration behind him, and Erestor found the courage to look at his nemesis from over his shoulder. “You won’t corrupt me.”

 

Sauron’s angry growl rolled through the room. “And what if I end your friend’s life and rip his fëa apart? He will fade to nothingness.”

 

Erestor’s anger flared at hearing those words and he was momentarily too stunned to form a reply. Orophin, whom Erestor had thought unconscious, suddenly spoke up in a clear and strong voice.

 

“Erestor won’t give in to you,” said Orophin, finding his last strength to confront the Dark Lord. He pushed himself onto his knees and defiantly stared at Sauron. “You may threaten to destroy my fëa, or actually do it, but it won’t result in Erestor serving you. Never!” His hazel eyes shone with determination. “We will die undefiled by your evil!”

 

Sauron’s wrath erupted and was unleashed. An invisible force laid itself around Erestor’s throat and began to squeeze the life out of him. “You will serve me, Istar, or you will fade to nothingness!”

 

“Ne…ver!” squeezed Erestor out, repeating Orophin’s words. “We will die… undefiled…” He collapsed onto his knees, realizing his end had come after all. He failed to draw in any air and his eyes almost bulged from their sockets in utter terror. He was about to lose consciousness, but then a loud roar echoed through the keep.

 

“Sauron, show yourself!”

 

Sauron’s form trembled, identifying the one who was challenging him. “Olórin…” The Istar had come for his son! He had hoped to corrupt Erestor before the Istar had a chance to free his son! Losing interest in tormenting his prisoners, his form changed into something unrecognizable and then disappeared from the dungeon.

 

Erestor gasped for breath once the invisible hands stopped squeezing his throat shut. Feeling dizzy and disorientated, he looked about, finding the Orcs had left the room as well. Only one of the Nazgûl had remained, guarding the doorway. “O… ro… phin!” He crawled over to the Galadhel’s side and pulled Orophin toward him. Quickly, he checked him over, and found new, added injuries, but none of them were fatal. “Mithrandir arrived, my friend. We must keep the faith.” Holding Orophin as close as possible, he divided his attention between caring for his friend and keeping an eye on the Nazgûl.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rúmil found Mithrandir reaching for him, and then the Istar claimed his arm, leaning on him, as if pretending he was weaker than he was. He gave Mithrandir a puzzled glance, but the Wizard merely smiled at him.

 

The smile however faded and gave way to grim determination when they entered Sauron’s keep. The Orcs tried to approach, but all shied away when Mithrandir raised his staff, aiming it at them. “Sauron, show yourself!”

 

The Orcs shrieked in terror, hearing their master being challenged and remained at a respectful distance.

 

Mithrandir whispered into Rúmil’s ear, “Be prepared to face the Nazgûl, my trusted friend.”

 

Rúmil shivered, uncovered his sword and drew in a deep breath, ready to do battle with the undead beings. “Do you think Glorfindel and the others have already located Erestor and Orophin?”

 

“They will come upon them shortly,” said Mithrandir reassuringly. “We need to distract Sauron first, so they can smuggle Erestor and Orophin out of the keep.”

 

Commotion to their right demanded their attention and Rúmil tensed when one of the dreaded Ringwraiths appeared. For one moment he was afraid that venturing in here had been folly. How was he supposed to fight off the Nazgûl single-handedly? But the Nazgûl didn’t approach, didn’t draw his sword and Rúmil finally realized the extent of Mithrandir’s power here. They didn’t dare approach him.

 

“You aren’t welcome here,” came a booming voice from deep within the keep.

 

Mithrandir’s eyes narrowed now that Sauron had acknowledged him. “You have abducted my son and one of the Galadhel. I am here to reclaim them. Release them or face the consequences!” They had reached the main hall by now, and he instinctively sought Sauron near his throne of bones. Seeing a heavily armored form seated on it, he just knew the fallen Maia feared him. “Return Erestor and Orophin to me.”

 

Rúmil watched the Nazgûl – now four of them – who formed a barrier between Sauron and them. They presented a horrible sight and he felt himself shiver minutely, but knowing Mithrandir was the stronger one in this confrontation helped him calm down. His hand stopped trembling, as he held his sword ready to defend them.

 

“What makes you think I would hand over Erestor? He is mine now.” Sauron rose from his throne, studying his opponent. He could sense that Olórin was stronger at this point, and the Istar would defeat him. He was already weakened and couldn’t take this risk. Mentally commanding the four Nazgûl forward, he ordered them to attack whilst planning his own retreat. His minions were preparing Barad-dûr for his return and he would go there.

 

Mithrandir, realizing Sauron was going to flee instead of fight him, quickly looked at Rúmil, saying, “We need to fight them off!” Drawing his own sword, he turned around so they could fight back to back. With Sauron on the run, he hoped Glorfindel’s party would quickly join them after freeing Erestor and Orophin. In the meantime they had to keep the Nazgûl and Orcs at a fighting distance.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel felt less suffocated when they finally left the dark of the labyrinth, exchanging the underground corridors for ones that would take them to the room Erestor was locked up in. Letting their connection guide him – as Mithrandir had advised him to – he quickly led his companions through the long corridors. He raised a hand and signaled for them to come to a stop. His instincts warned him that something evil was close to Erestor. /Erestor? Who is in there with you?/

 

Inside the room, Erestor’s eyes darkened, sensing his lover this close. /One of the Nazgûl./ He hoped the evil, undead being hadn’t detected Glorfindel’s presence yet.

 

Glorfindel looked at his companions. “One Nazgûl, inside.” He was confident they could take on the undead creature. “Elladan, go for Orophin.” And then he made a very important decision, “Magolion, take care of Erestor.”

 

Magolion swallowed hard, realizing the trust he was given and nodded once.

 

Ready for combat, Glorfindel kicked the door out of its hinges and stormed in first, quickly followed by the other three warriors.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor had anticipated the attack and had pulled Orophin deeper into the corner, making sure the feverish Elf wouldn’t get injured by accident. Seeing the door burst open and Glorfindel storm inside first, his heart leapt with joy, at knowing his lover close again. Orophin and he would only hinder their rescuers and they stayed down and watched the scene unfold.

 

Glorfindel attacked the Nazgûl furiously, fighting the being with only one goal, driving him from this room. In the meantime Elladan and Elrohir entered as well. Elladan immediately headed for Orophin’s crumpled form, whilst his twin joined Glorfindel in fighting the Nazgûl.

 

Erestor willingly handed Orophin’s battered form over to Elladan, and tried to rise from the floor, but he swayed unexpectedly. Apparently being cut off from his air supply had left him weakened after all.

 

“Let me help.”

 

Erestor’s eyes widened dramatically, seeing Magolion appear at his side to support him. He instinctively flinched away from his brother and pushed himself against the wall for support.

 

Seeing the rejection in Erestor’s eyes and the ugly burn marks marring his brother’s face, made Magolion flinch in turn, but then he berated himself. He should have expected Erestor to move away from him. “I mean it, let me help.”

 

But Erestor’s gaze had already drifted off to Glorfindel’s form. His lover had managed to corner the Nazgûl, and together, Glorfindel and Elladan thrust their swords into the undead being’s chest. The dark cloth suddenly floated onto the floor, as its inhabitant had left. Triumphantly, Glorfindel turned around and found Erestor’s gaze locking with his. “Erestor!” Quickly sheathing his sword, he advanced toward his lover, cringing when he saw the damage Sauron had done to his beloved’s face.

 

Magolion stepped aside and helped Elladan support Orophin. Elladan’s expression was one of shock, finding his beloved in such a weakened state with burn marks all over his face. “What did they do to you?” Worried to find Orophin’s skin hot to the touch, he quickly removed his cloak and wrapped the Galadhel up in it.

 

In the meantime, Glorfindel had reached Erestor, and although he had planned to bury his advisor in a warm hug, he now wavered. Had he truly been forgiven for the pain he had caused? “Erestor? Love?” Searching his beloved’s face, he barely kept back from examining the burns and other injuries Erestor might carry.

 

Erestor moistened his lips, feeling nervous as well. In the end, he took the first step, opened his arms and caught Glorfindel in them. “My hero,” he said, teasingly, ignoring the stinging sensation on his face as the marred skin rubbed against the fabric of Glorfindel’s clothes. Releasing tears of joy, he captured Glorfindel’s lips with his.

 

Glorfindel returned the kiss, even deepening it, and tightly wrapped his arms around his lover.

 

Elladan, seeing Erestor and Glorfindel’s emotional reunion, looked at Orophin’s battered form. His breathing hitched, finding the Galadhel awake, looking at him with a remarkably alert expression in his hazel eyes. “Orophin…”

 

Orophin remembered the vow he had made, and knew Erestor would remind him if he didn’t say the words right now. “I… love you… El…ladan. I have done so… for a long… time.” Resting his head on Elladan’s shoulder, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he fainted once more.

 

Elladan reacted at once, and pulled Orophin close. Carrying the injured Elf in his arms, he advanced toward the doorway, intent on taking his love into safety. Orophin’s words continued to replay in his ears and he wished he’d had the chance to assure his love that the attraction was mutual. But he consoled himself with the fact that Orophin was alive, and that the Galadhel would recover eventually. Looking over his shoulder at Glorfindel, he found the blond was still kissing Erestor. “Hurry up!” They needed to get moving now!

 

Glorfindel regretted releasing Erestor’s lips, but in the end, he pulled back, looking at his lover in utter adoration. “Thank you for forgiving me and taking me back.”

 

“We can discuss this later, meleth,” said Erestor, quickly moving to join Elladan and Orophin. “Elladan is right. We need to leave now!”

 

Glorfindel felt ecstatic after hearing Erestor address him as his love. Giving him a doting smile, he wished they were at home again, so he could properly apologize and make amends to his forgiving lover. But seeing Magolion’s lost expression, he realized there was another who wanted to make amends. “Magolion? Come over here.”

 

Erestor frowned at Glorfindel’s request, watching his half-brother with suspicion, wondering why Magolion was here. He had been told Magolion had changed, but he didn’t believe that was true. Magolion doubtlessly had a hidden agenda and he preferred to keep him at a distance. “Why?” he hissed at Glorfindel. “I don’t want him close!”

 

Magolion cringed, hearing the pain hidden behind the anger in Erestor’s voice. If only he had realized centuries ago that what he was doing was wrong! But he obeyed and joined Glorfindel and Erestor.

 

”Keep an eye on Erestor,” ordered Glorfindel. “Sauron might try to kill him now that he cannot have him.”

 

Erestor however was no longer paying them any attention, as his gaze had been drawn to a blazing torch, illuminating the corridor. Walking toward it, he took hold of the handle and stared into the flames.

 

“Love, we won’t need that.” Glorfindel, puzzled by Erestor’s behavior, was about to put the torch back into the holder when Erestor’s eyes fixed on him. For one moment he thought he saw specks of golden fire in the dark irises.

 

“Oh, we do need the fire,” said Erestor thoughtfully. “Now, where are we headed?”

 

“We need to locate Mithrandir and Rúmil,” said Glorfindel, “And then we can finally leave this wretched place.”

 

Erestor frowned, seeing Elrohir taking hold of Magolion’s hand, cradling it close to his chest. A wave of frustration washed through him. Why didn’t they see Magolion would never change his ways? He had just moved on to his newest victim!

 

/Give him a chance, love,/ came Glorfindel’s warm thoughts into his mind. /I have changed, and so has he. I understand that is hard to accept, but… Would you at least try?/

 

Erestor gave Glorfindel a look full of doubt. /That might be asking for too much right now./

 

Glorfindel understood; too much had happened in Erestor’s life these past few moons. /We will do things slowly then./ After seeing Erestor nod his head, he turned his attention to guiding this group into safety. Especially Orophin’s weakened state worried him. The plan was that they met up with Mithrandir and Rúmil and then left this accursed place together. Maybe they could head for Mirkwood, as that Elven realm was closest. Surely Thranduil wouldn’t send them away with a wounded Elf in their midst? Well, they would find out eventually.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir felt strangely alive and energetic, fighting off the Orcs and Nazgûl. Rúmil and he covered each other’s back, and so far they had remained uninjured, but he was afraid that it was only a matter of time before one of the foul beings would manage to wound them. “Head for the exit, Rúmil, we are leaving this accursed place.”

 

Rúmil nodded, acknowledging he had heard, and moved toward the doorway. The Nazgûl and Orcs mimicked their every step and a thin film of sweet was forming on his brow. There were so many of them! But he took heart in the fact that Mithrandir was at his side.

 

“Rúmil! Mithrandir!” Glorfindel had finally located them and his party – save Elladan and Orophin – now joined in the fight. Even Erestor was storming toward the enemy! He was about to tell his lover to stop and stay with Elladan and Orophin, when he realized that his lover wouldn’t listen to him. Fire burned in the dark eyes and Erestor seemed intent on extracting some sort of revenge on his former tormentors.

 

Elrohir and Magolion attacked the Orcs that were blocking their escape route, clearing the way for Elladan and Orophin, whilst Glorfindel made sure he stayed close to Erestor, who was setting several Orcs on fire by using his torch.

 

But just as it seemed they were heading for victory, Sauron – who had been on his way to a secret passage way – made his move, throwing a giant fire ball toward Glorfindel.

 

Erestor however, had felt the sudden birth of the unholy fire and reacted instinctively. Using the fire from the torch, he sent it toward Sauron’s, and the two forces collided, causing an explosion and bringing down part of the ceiling, which was now falling on them.

 

Sauron, finally realizing he had lost and would face utter defeat, quickly disappeared into the secret corridors, but Erestor wasn’t that lucky. A heavy wooden beam and large rocks were falling toward him and not even his fire could stop the rocks from crashing down on him. /Please forgive me, Glorfindel, for leaving you behind./

 

Those words of final goodbye startled Glorfindel, who now also realized the danger Erestor was in, but he was too far away to interfere; he couldn’t possibly cross the distance in time to rescue Erestor from certain death!

 

But someone else had also noticed the danger, and a dark-haired form suddenly crashed into Erestor, sending him hard into the wall. Dazed, Erestor watched as the large rocks missed him, creating large craters in the floor. Who had saved him? Elrohir? Elladan? Dark hair covered the fallen form, which had been struck down by part of the wooden beam.

 

Crawling over to his savior, Erestor rolled him onto his back and stared in utter shock at Magolion’s pain filled, contorted features. “You?” He was still trying to accept his brother had saved him when two of the remaining Nazgûl appeared, their swords drawn and aimed at them. Erestor quickly reached for the torch and suddenly the flames danced on his palms, growing stronger and more violent. A large flame shot upward, creating a wall of fire between them and the Nazgûl. The Ringwraiths shrieked, and the beings turned around to face the other Elves now that Erestor had effectively pulled up his defenses.

 

Glorfindel had been running toward Erestor, but now stopped, realizing his beloved and Magolion were safe for the moment. Seeing Erestor command the fire had stunned him, but Mithrandir’s words had come back to him then, telling him that Erestor was part Istar and possessed certain powers. After exchanging a look of understanding with his lover, he turned his attention to the Nazgûl and Orcs once more, finding half of them had already been taken out.

 

Elladan – who was still carrying Orophin – had now reached the doorway. Elrohir had cleared the way for them, but the half-Elf now stared in great worry at Magolion’s crumbled form. His greatest desire was to check on his lover, but he also knew he couldn’t leave Elladan and Orophin unprotected. He had to put his faith in Erestor and believe the advisor would take care of Magolion.

 

Erestor didn’t disappoint him, and the advisor managed to pick up Magolion, hauling him over his shoulder. Whilst keeping the wall of fire protectively in front of them, Erestor joined the Elves at the doorway, letting the fire dissolve once he had reached them.

 

Elrohir opened his arms to receive Magolion into them, and Erestor obliged him. “Make your way outside,” said the advisor, “Don’t wait for us. Get the wounded into safety!”

 

Seeing the wisdom in Erestor’s words, Elladan and Elrohir wanted to comply, but then realized something very important. “We can’t defend ourselves when we run into Orcs!” Their arms were full!

 

“Glorfindel, go with them!” The blond had now also reached them and Erestor resolutely pushed his lover forward.

 

“Not without you!” Glorfindel wasn’t letting Erestor out of his sight!

 

“I still have unfinished business here.” Erestor gave Glorfindel a determined look. “If you really love me you will do this for me. Take them into safety!”

 

Glorfindel cursed loudly, realizing he didn’t have the time to argue with Erestor. “I do love you.”

 

“Then go!” Erestor gave him another push and watched them leave, hoping Glorfindel would keep them safe. Turning around, his teeth gnashed. He still had a bone to pick with those Nazgûl and Orcs. Raising his sword, he attacked, only realizing the metal was alight with fire when he struck down the first Nazgûl, which promptly vanished into thin air. Only three of them were now left and a dozen of Orcs. “Mithrandir, Rúmil, we are leaving!” For one moment he had been tempted to address the Istar as ‘father’ but he didn’t judge this an opportune time to start doing so.

 

Mithrandir made the mistake of looking at Erestor in order to convince himself that his son was fine, and the Nazgûl who had sneaked up behind him, made use of that. Raising his unholy sword, the undead King aimed the tip at Mithrandir’s back, ready to pierce the Istar’s heart.

 

Erestor gasped, seeing the danger, but knew there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

 

Rúmil however, was already moving and threw himself in harm’s way. With his back turned toward the Nazgûl, he took the blow that had been intended to end Mithrandir’s life. An insane agony slashed through him as the Ringwraith’s sword entered his back. The Nazgûl released a frustrated shriek at being denied and twisted the blade cruelly in Rúmil’s back.

 

Mithrandir spun around, raised his sword and beheaded the Nazgûl, driving the undead entity from this hall. The black cloth floated onto the floor, all evidence of the Nazgûl gone.

 

He didn’t know how, but Erestor managed to create a circle of fire around his father and the fallen Galadhel, and by sending bolts of fire into the Orcs’ and Nazgûl’s bodies, he took them out one by one. Running toward them, he came to a halt beside Rúmil, whose face had grown pallid in approaching death.

 

“Oh no,” Mithrandir mumbled softly, shocked by Rúmil’s sacrifice. “Not you.”

 

Erestor knelt beside them, keeping the protective circle of fire intact. “Will he die?”

 

Mithrandir pulled out the unholy blade and threw it away from him. “Rúmil, not you.” He had grown fond of the young Elf these last few days.

 

Rúmil’s eyes blinked with awareness for one terrible moment and he managed a weak smile. Using his last strength, he raised his right hand and caressed Mithrandir’s face weakly. “I… sa…ved… you…” An icy pain consumed him and parts of his body had already become numb. It was only a matter of seconds before Mandos’ call would come for him. The smile remained on his face as he looked dotingly at the Istar, who was cradling him close to his chest. It was a pity that he was about to die, for resting in Mithrandir’s surprisingly strong arms felt good.

 

Now that death was upon him, his vision blurred and when he blinked his eyes, Mithrandir’s form had changed. A golden-haired Elf, young and fair, with stunning aquamarine eyes was staring at him – a pleading expression in them. /Beautiful…/ Was this Mandos himself? Taking pity on him in his hour of death and granting him this comforting vision?

 

“I won’t let you die, Rúmil.” In the face of death, his true colors showed and Olórin leaned in closer, dotingly caressing Rúmil’s face. “I won’t let you die,” he repeated determinedly. Letting a tiny amount of his own life force flow into Rúmil’s dying form and fleeing fëa, he held him close. He was aware of the fact that Rúmil saw him in this true form, as only the truly dying were able to, and he leaned in closer to press the kiss of life onto the Galadhel’s lips. “Live.”

 

Rúmil’s body twitched when new energy flowed into him and he stared at the beautiful face for comfort. The eyes – he knew he would never forget the bright spark to those light-blue eyes as long as he lived.

 

“Mithrandir?” Erestor had gathered his courage and looked at Mithrandir, sensing the energy transfer.

 

Mithrandir smiled at Rúmil and then looked fondly at his son, who had faithfully stayed at his side. “He will live.” But as Rúmil was still too weak to move much on his own, Mithrandir carried the Elf instead, keeping him cradled close against his chest. “I managed to reclaim him.”

 

Erestor instinctively knew that his questions had to wait and he fell into step with his father, keeping an eye out for potential attackers, but the Orcs and Nazgûl had disappeared. His eyes met Mithrandir’s briefly, and during that moment their connection flared bright. Truly feeling father and son, they determinedly made their way out of Sauron’s keep, eager to join the others.

 

 

Part 29

 

 

“Legolas! Look over there!” Haldir pointed Legolas in the right direction and saw his lover’s eyes widen. “That’s Glorfindel!” He had immediately recognized the Imladris’ Captain, who was clearing the way for two dark-haired Elves, who in turn were carrying two obviously injured Elves.

 

Legolas didn’t waste any time and spurred his horse on. They were close and it only took them a few minutes to come within shooting range. Firing arrow after arrow, Haldir and he managed to take out half of the Orcs that were chasing after the Elves. Drawing his sword, Haldir charged toward the group of Orcs. Legolas followed quickly, using his deadly accuracy with bow and arrow to take out another fourth of the Orcs.

 

Glorfindel stared at the two Elves in wonder, but then realized he now had a fair chance to take his charges into safety. “Run! Run as hard as you can!”

 

Elladan and Elrohir obeyed at once, and ran away from the Orcs, eager to keep Orophin and Magolion safe.

 

Glorfindel fought bravely and welcomed the help. He had recognized Haldir at once, but the golden-haired Elf traveling with him was a stranger to Glorfindel. But, he quickly realized this stranger was a skilled warrior, as the golden-haired Elf was taking out the most Orcs between the three of them. It was no longer an equal fight, but slaughter, and a few minutes later the Elves had disposed of their foul enemies.

 

Glorfindel quickly searched his surroundings for Elladan and Elrohir and found the twins had lowered their charges onto the grass and were now checking them over. He quickly joined them, realizing Haldir and the stranger were following him. “Thank you for your help,” he said sincerely, kneeling beside Elladan to learn about the state their charges were in. His gaze met Haldir’s, and he nodded thankfully. “You arrived just in time.”

 

Haldir however was shocked to find Orophin was one of the wounded Elves, and had gone down onto his knees. He wanted to examine his brother himself and hold him, but Elladan was unwilling to hand him to him. “Elladan, he is my brother,” he said pleadingly.

 

”And he is *my* lover!” He had fought hard for the privilege to hold Orophin in his arms and in his frantic state of mind he wasn’t inclined to let go.

 

Haldir blinked once, hearing Elladan had accepted Orophin as his lover, but then he hissed, seeing the angry burns and bruises on Orophin’s face. “Who did this to him?”

 

“Sauron,” replied Glorfindel, who felt a bit relieved, realizing neither Elf was mortally injured. “They will survive.”

 

“What was Orophin doing in Sauron’s keep?” Haldir had managed to claim his brother’s right hand and soothingly stroked Orophin’s hot skin. “And how can he possibly have a fever? Only mortals develop a fever!”

 

“I don’t know,” admitted Elladan in a pained voice. “But we need to properly attend to his injuries.” He involuntarily sucked in his breath when Orophin’s hazel eyes unexpectedly regained awareness. “You are safe now,” he said quickly, seeing panic in his beloved’s eyes.

 

Orophin only vaguely recognized Elladan’s face, but when he heard Haldir’s voice close, telling him everything would be all right, he relaxed and plunged into a healing sleep.

 

Haldir felt relieved after seeing Orophin briefly regain consciousness, and said, “We can take them to Thranduil’s caves. We will be safe there.”

 

“Do you think Thranduil will allow us to stay?” asked Elrohir skeptically. Magolion had regained consciousness when he had laid his lover down on the grass and seeing the lucid expression in the green eyes reassured him that he would be fine eventually.

 

Magolion remained quiet, as he was content to look at Elrohir’s face and to know the half-Elf close. His action to save Erestor’s life had surprised him as well, and after doing so, a serenity he had never known before had come over him. Maybe he had made peace with himself at last.

 

“Of course. Why do you think he would send you away?”

 

Glorfindel looked at the unknown golden-haired Elf, who had been silent up until now. “We hail from Imladris,” he said slowly, “And Lord Elrond and King Thranduil aren’t on best terms.”

 

Legolas gave Glorfindel a curious look, but decided not to pursue this now. “Haldir, I will fetch our horses. Wait here.”

 

Haldir nodded and watched his lover disappear behind some trees. Looking at Glorfindel, he was about to tell his old friend that Thranduil wasn’t the Elf he thought him to be, when his eyes caught sight of a truly startling sight.

 

“Rúmil!” Leaping to his feet, Haldir ran toward Mithrandir, who was carrying his youngest brother. Rúmil didn’t look injured, but the ghostly pallor that had spread over his brother’s face startled Haldir.

 

Mithrandir released a relieved sigh, joining them and finding they had survived after all. The wounded would eventually heal and he had his son back. His plan had worked. Seeing Haldir’s nervousness and worry, he quickly handed Rúmil’s drained form to the oldest brother. “He needs to rest, but he will be fine in a few weeks’ time.” His heart ached, having to let go of Rúmil, but he also knew that Haldir needed his brother close, especially after finding Orophin in a similar state. After casting one more look at Rúmil’s face, he faced his son. “Erestor, I…” For once the words wouldn’t come to the old Istar and his shoulder sagged in defeat.

 

But Erestor wouldn’t have it. Raising a hand he rested it on Mithrandir’s shoulder. “You are my father.”

 

“Yes, I am your father. And you are my son, Erestor. My only child on Middle-Earth. I should have told you in Lothlórien, but I didn’t want to open old wounds.”

 

“We have a lot to talk about,” said Erestor in a warm tone, surprising Mithrandir by giving him a firm hug. “But that will have to wait. We have to attend to the wounded first.”

 

Mithrandir sensed acceptance, forgiveness and affection in his son’s thoughts for him and smiled, realizing they would manage to sort things out between them. “Go to Glorfindel, my son.”

 

Erestor gave his father a grateful look and then headed for Glorfindel, who was helping Magolion back onto his feet. The Elf had merely been stunned, knocked off his feet by the blast of the impacting rocks around him, and although he was still a bit unsteady, Magolion managed to stand unaided in the end.

 

Finding himself facing his half-brother, Erestor grew cautious again. “Why did you do that? Why did you push me out of the way? If you hadn’t acted I would have finally disappeared out of your life all together.”

 

Magolion swallowed hard and found courage in the fact that Glorfindel and Elrohir were nodding encouragingly. “I have changed. I let go of my hate. I want you to live.” Seeing the disbelief and suspicion in Erestor’s dark eyes, he knew words weren’t enough to convince his brother and realized he still had a hard and long road ahead of him where gaining his brother’s trust was concerned. It would take time to build a relationship with Erestor.

 

Elrohir wrapped an arm around Magolion’s waist and ignored Erestor’s questioning look at doing so.

 

Erestor understood and let them be, facing Glorfindel next. The warrior had come for him, had fought for him and had proven his worth all over again. Words were redundant as he leaned in and claimed Glorfindel as his lover with a passionate kiss.

 

Glorfindel finally allowed himself to believe that Erestor still wanted him and answered the kiss with all the passion and desire he felt. They still needed to discuss many things, but they had made a new start.

 

Haldir was torn; uncertain which brother needed his attention most. But Elladan made the decision for him, as the Peredhel was determined to look after Orophin. Making sure he remained close to his injured brother at all times, Haldir carefully carried Rúmil over to the horses, which Legolas had led here. Sliding into the saddle behind Rúmil, he made sure his youngest brother wouldn’t accidentally take a fall.

 

Legolas’ gaze swept over the weakened group and decided Orophin and Magolion looked the worst. His steed could easily carry the two of them and he led his horse closer to Elladan and Orophin.

 

Elladan and Elrohir placed Orophin on the horse’s back and then assisted Magolion in mounting as well. The dark-haired Elf sat behind Orophin and held him close, making sure he remained in the saddle.

 

Legolas took the reins and led them away from Sauron’s keep, and back to his father’s lands. He had already farspoken with Thranduil, informing him they would arrive before nightfall and were in need of the assistance of several healers. He ignored Glorfindel’s puzzled looks, which were directed at his person and concentrated on choosing the safest paths home.

 

Glorfindel had folded an arm around Erestor and refused to let go. After falling into step with his dark-haired lover, he cringed, seeing the burns marring the beautiful face. “I want to go back and punish Sauron for what he did to you – and Orophin, of course.”

 

“Don’t,” whispered Erestor, tiredly. “We need to rest, not start another battle.” Lifting his eyes to his love, he added, “Thank you for coming after me.”

 

“And thank you for forgiving me.” Glorfindel, realizing there were no words to convey his feelings, simply held Erestor close as he walked beside him.

 

Mithrandir walked alone, watching the relationships of the members of his group tighten further in friendship and love. Elladan was walking beside Legolas’ horse, keeping a close eye on Orophin, whilst his twin walked on the horse’s other side, holding Magolion’s hand in his. Glorfindel and Erestor clung to each other and Haldir held Rúmil close – protectively and possessively. Rúmil – the name brought tears to his eyes. The Galadhel had died for him, and when death had been upon the Elf, he had used his powers to pull him back, involuntarily allowing Rúmil to see him in his true form. His heart ached – did it ache with love for Rúmil? He quickly pushed that thought away and focused on Legolas instead.

 

The Prince was leading the group back into Mirkwood, keeping them away from the treacherous paths. He had sensed the bond between Haldir and Legolas, and rejoiced for the Woodland Elf. He had seen Thranduil mourn Remmen’s death and had visited the grieving Elf as often as possible. He had also seen Legolas’ pain and grief, and had tried to soothe their pain – but to no avail. In the end he had feared losing Thranduil to the Elven sickness, but Legolas’ love had kept the elder Elf here. Legolas had also suffered much during his father’s period of grieving and he was happy to see the Prince in love and bound.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Do you want to halt for a rest?” inquired Legolas, looking questioningly at Glorfindel. He had no desire to undermine the other’s position of leader and patiently waited for the Elda’s response.

 

Glorfindel, who was still holding Erestor’s hand in his to make sure his lover wouldn’t vanish unexpectedly, studied the stranger in turn. The golden-haired Elf seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t put a name with the beautiful face. “How certain are you that Thranduil will allow us shelter?”

 

“I know he will,” said Legolas, slightly displeased at the fact that Glorfindel didn’t seem to trust his father. “He would never turn someone in need away.”

 

“Even when they hail from Imladris?” Glorfindel felt a slight tug at his hand and his gaze shifted from Legolas to Erestor.

 

“Love, you do know to whom you are talking?” asked Erestor, who finally realized Glorfindel had no idea who Legolas was.

 

Glorfindel frowned, puzzled. “What are you trying to tell me?”

 

“This is Legolas, the Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm, Thranduil’s only child.” Erestor saw an amused smile curl the corners of Legolas’ mouth when Glorfindel released a surprised groan. “You really had no idea, did you?”

 

“I… apologize,” mumbled Glorfindel, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t know…”

 

Legolas inclined his head, still smiling. “Don’t fret, Glorfindel. I am not troubled by what you said.”

 

“I didn’t mean it… I think… The things I said about your father… the King, I mean…” He was stuttering and hearing Erestor laugh at his confusion didn’t make things easier on him.

 

“My father will welcome you,” replied Legolas, “Though you will find the numbers of my kin have dwindled and only a few healers stayed behind. But we will attend to your companions’ wounds to our best abilities.”

 

“Legolas?” Haldir had overheard their conversation and now signaled for his lover to join him.

 

Legolas couldn’t help making his next remark, knowing he would shock Glorfindel, which was small payback as far as he was considered. “Please excuse me, my husband wants to talk to me.” Walking away from Glorfindel, he heard the blond’s surprised groan behind him, and smiled wickedly. “What is it, love?” He caught up with Haldir and now gave the silver-haired Elf a curious look.

 

“Would you scout ahead and make sure we don’t run into any spiders or Orcs?”

 

“Of course, I will also alert the sentries that we are coming.” Legolas gave Haldir a stunning smile – and received one in turn – before breaking out into a run and disappearing into the forest.

 

Haldir looked over his shoulder and saw Glorfindel’s dazed expression. He shrugged once, and then concentrated on the task at hand. Rúmil was still unconscious in his arms, but at least his brother was breathing deeply and regularly, strengthening him in his belief that Rúmil would be fine eventually, just as Mithrandir had said.

 

Glorfindel, shaking his head in puzzlement, looked at his lover. “His husband?”

 

Erestor smiled warmly. “It appears Legolas and Haldir committed to each other then.” But that thought also brought back dark memories of Glorfindel being unwilling to commit to him, and he ruthlessly pushed them aside, not wanting such sentiments to cast shadows on their reunion. He would take whatever Glorfindel was willing to give and be happy that way. He had to.

 

Glorfindel had missed the darkening of his lover’s emotions, as he was too preoccupied with his own stupidity where Legolas was concerned. “I cannot believe I said those things about Thranduil. I honestly had no idea who Legolas was!”

 

“I met Legolas once,” recalled Erestor. “I was visiting Lothlórien at the time and Legolas had just reached his majority. He is a striking mirror image of his father. You never met Thranduil then?”

 

“I never did,” admitted Glorfindel, “though now I must confess to growing curious.”

 

“Your curiosity will be satisfied shortly,” said Mithrandir, who was walking to his son’s right, studying them. He liked the new and improved Glorfindel and hoped the blond would make his son truly happy. “Thranduil is quite… something,” he hinted mysteriously. “I am sure you will like him, Glorfindel.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because he is trouble,” said Haldir, looking at them from over his shoulder. “He is just plain trouble.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil had readied several rooms underground for his unexpected guests and made sure healers were standing by now that the party was approaching. He wasn’t sure how he felt about their unexpected visit, but there were wounded among them and he considered it his duty to attend to them. That the twin sons of Elrond were among them made no difference to him. Yes, Elrond and he had parted on bad terms after the Battle of the Last Alliance, but he bore the Peredhil no ill feelings.

 

Legolas arrived first, leading his horse inside. Large rooms had been carved in the caves and it could easily serve as a home if necessary, but no Elf would voluntarily live underground when they could live in telain. “Legolas, bring them over here!” He walked toward them and helped Haldir lower the wounded silver-haired Elf into his arms. “Legolas, take the injured ones to the healing rooms!” Seeing Haldir’s worried expression, he wondered about his son in law. “Haldir?”

 

“This is my youngest brother – Rúmil,” Haldir said, and looking over his shoulder, he added, “And that is Orophin, my other brother. Sauron hurt them.”

 

Thranduil’s heart went out to Haldir and hurried with his charge into the rooms set aside for the healers. He placed Rúmil onto a cot and attended to the Galadhel himself with Haldir assisting him.

 

Legolas guided Elladan into the adjoining room, where two healers stood waiting for them. After placing Orophin onto a cot as well, the healers moved closer in order to clean, balm and bandage the injuries. Elladan was forced to stand back, and gave Legolas a half thankful, half worried look. “These are the best healers in the land,” offered Legolas. “They will heal Orophin.” Now that Orophin was in the best possible hands, Legolas left the room and made sure another healer was checking over Magolion. Elrohir remained at Magolion’s side, holding his hand when the healers allowed it. Satisfied that Magolion was also receiving the best care possible, he turned to the remaining three members of their party. “Do you wish to rest?”

 

Mithrandir gave Legolas a warm smile. “Can I speak with your father?”

 

“He is currently attending to Rúmil, but I am sure he will join you once he has finished tending to the Galadhel.” Legolas raised a hand and signaled for them to follow him. He led them into a large bedroom, and then turned around to face them. “You should be comfortable here. I suggest you rest. My father will visit with you shortly, Mithrandir.”

 

After Legolas had left, Erestor sat down on the bed; suddenly feeling ancient and tired. These last few days had been taxing and now that the adrenaline rush had worn off, the stinging sensation on his face, arm and shoulder returned, almost making him feel nauseous.

 

Glorfindel sensed his lover’s discomfort and stepped into the small bathroom to return with clean pieces of cloth and cool water. Kneeling in front of his lover, he began to cool the burns.

 

Mithrandir busied himself by selecting clean robes for Erestor and after placing them on the bed, he sat down next to his son. Whilst Glorfindel tended to the burns, bruises and scrapes, he studied his son and came to the realization that Erestor had greatly changed since their abrupt parting in Lothlórien. Erestor had come out of this ordeal stronger, more determined, less fragile. Erestor had found his inner source of wisdom and strength. “You are part Istar,” he said eventually.

 

“I gathered as much,” replied Erestor, who lovingly stared into Glorfindel’s eyes, letting his lover soothe his aches. “And I can command the fire.”

 

“I didn’t know for certain what the extents of your powers were, but it appears Sauron managed to unleash part of them.” Mithrandir briefly grew quiet, watching them. Glorfindel’s touch was full of love and concern, and he could see they truly loved each other. For a moment he felt like an intruder.

 

“Hand me those robes, please?” Glorfindel accepted the deep brown robes Mithrandir handed him and helped Erestor slip out of his dirty ones. Once Erestor was once more clad in clean robes, the advisor sat down and Glorfindel moved onto combing the long, raven mane, cursing when he found strands had been burned away. At a loss for words, he let his actions speak for him.

 

Erestor relished having them close – his father and his lover. He was going through so many changes that it felt reassuring to know them close. He raised a hand and caressed Glorfindel’s lips, whispering a promise of love, which the blond promptly returned.

 

Mithrandir was about to excuse himself and leave the room, when Thranduil unexpectedly entered.

 

“Mithrandir, my old friend! It is good to see you again! If only the circumstances were more pleasant!” Thranduil advanced on them and placed a hand on the Istar’s shoulder in welcome.

 

Mithrandir had risen from the bed and stood in front of the Woodland Elf. “You haven’t changed at all, my dear friend.”

 

Thranduil laughed warmly, shook Mithrandir’s shoulder slightly and then turned to welcome his other guests.

 

Glorfindel, who stood next to Erestor, studied Thranduil in surprise. It was as if he was looking at Legolas’ mirror image, save for the eyes. These were emerald and sparkled like a blanket of leaves, being caressed by Arien’s warm rays on a summer’s day. “Sire.” He hadn’t intended to address Thranduil in that manner, but instinctively realized the other’s qualities.

 

“Bah, no one calls me that,” said Thranduil, smiling at Glorfindel. “If you must address me formally, you may call me my Lord, but I would prefer you use my given name.” He had heard many tales of the fabled Balrog Slayer and had always been curious about Glorfindel. “Your friends are being well taken care of and you are welcome to stay here as long as you desire.” His gaze shifted from Glorfindel, who was clearly a bit stunned, to Erestor. He had never met Elrond’s chief advisor before. “And you must be Erestor.”

 

“Yes, I am.” Erestor exchanged a puzzled look with his father. Was it Mithrandir’s intention to keep their relationship a secret or make it known that they were father and son?

 

Mithrandir caught an echo of his son’s thoughts and made a very important decision. Looking Thranduil in the eyes, he said, “Erestor is also my son.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes widened marginally, but the Elf managed to hide his surprise extraordinary well. “Any child of yours is always welcome in my home,” he said eventually, his face alight with a warm smile.

 

‘Thank you,” said Erestor, thanking his father for admitting the truth and Thranduil for making him feel welcome.

 

Thranduil placed an arm around Mithrandir’s shoulder and said, “Do you fancy some Dwarven spirits, my friend? You look like you need a strong drink.”

 

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. “Dwarven spirits?”

 

“They are a bit strong,” said Thranduil, “But Erestor and you are more than welcome to join us. I just thought you might want some… privacy.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Glorfindel actually blushed, much to Erestor’s delight. “He is right, love,” said the dark-haired advisor, pulling Glorfindel toward him.

 

Mithrandir accepted Thranduil’s invitation for several reasons. One of them was that he did want Erestor and Glorfindel to have some privacy. He also wanted to inquire about Rúmil and when he could visit with the Elf. Rúmil had made quite an impression on him and for the first time in centuries, he was beginning to feel something akin to passionate love again.

 

Beta read by Sulien.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Part 30

 

 

“What is troubling you, my dear friend?” Now that they had ventured into the corridor, Thranduil’s tone changed ever so slightly, revealing concern.

 

“Rúmil, the Elf you cared for… How does he fare?” Mithrandir had long ago stopped trying to hide things from Thranduil. They had become good friends when Thranduil had mourned losing Remmen and knew one another best.

 

“Ah, is that it…” mumbled Thranduil slowly, realizing his friend’s true reason for inquiring. “That young Elf has captured your heart, my old friend?”

 

“Humpf! A moment ago I was your dear friend and now I am your old friend?”

 

“I am merely teasing. Forgive me.” But the wicked expression in Thranduil’s eyes told a different story. “Why don’t we visit with him?”

 

Now that Thranduil was looking after Rúmil, Mithrandir decided his friend needed to know the truth. “He sacrificed himself for me and was mortally injured. He died and…”

 

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. “You pulled him back?” That would explain the hint of Mithrandir’s being that he had sensed in Rúmil when he had examined him. Not many knew he was an accomplished healer – he had to be with his people constantly being the target of poisonous spiders and lethal Orcs.

 

“Yes, I strengthened him by feeding him some of my life energy. I couldn’t let him die.” Mithrandir’s gaze met Thranduil’s and read understanding in the emerald eyes. “I am afraid I am falling in love with him.”

 

Thranduil smiled ruefully. “Had I possessed the power to save Remmen’s life I would have done so,” admitted the blond. “And why are you afraid to fall in love with Rúmil? You have been alone for so long. It is about time you chose a companion, and we Elves are loyal lovers!”

 

Mithrandir playfully slapped Thranduil’s shoulder, thankful that Legolas’ love had kept the Woodland King on Arda. “I missed our bantering.”

 

Thranduil opened the door to Rúmil’s room and gave the healer who was sitting with his patient permission to leave. Taking the seat the healer had just vacated, he checked Rúmil’s vital signs and found them satisfactory. “He is in a deep, healing sleep.”

 

Mithrandir now approached as well and carefully sat down on the side of the bed. After a moment’s hesitation he claimed Rúmil’s hand, cradling it within his own. “It is the strangest thing, Thranduil. As I sit here my heart fills with love for him. Is this folly?” He looked at the blond Elf, wondering what having these feelings meant for him.

 

“Loving someone is never folly,” said Thranduil, once he had finished examining Rúmil. He covered the healing Elf with a warm blanket and then sat back, meeting Mithrandir’s gaze. “Does he return your feelings?”

 

“I don’t know,” admitted Mithrandir. “I don’t think so.”

 

“He died for you,” said Thranduil, pondering this situation.

 

“He would have died for Erestor, Glorfindel, or any of our companions. He has a noble heart, this young one.”

 

“But he chose to stay close to *you* and protect *you*,” said Thranduil, realizing Mithrandir was afraid to hope Rúmil would answer his feelings. “I would suggest you ask him when he wakes again, which should be within the next few hours.” After giving Mithrandir another long look, he added, “You prefer to sit with him, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, I do. Would you check on Orophin as well?” Mithrandir loving caressed Rúmil’s hand. “He saw me in my true form, something I never wanted to happen. But what is done is done and cannot be undone.”

 

Thranduil pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the doorway. “My friend, find out when he wakes up.”

 

Mithrandir nodded, indicating he understood and then sat quietly at Rúmil’s bedside, whilst Thranduil moved on to his next patient.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I should also be at Rúmil’s side!” Haldir, exasperated, glared at Legolas. “Why did your father put them in separate rooms?”

 

“My father knows what he is doing,” said Legolas, coming to stand behind Haldir and massaging his lover’s tense shoulders. “My father said Rúmil is in a healing sleep and should be disturbed as little as possible. Trust in him.”

 

“Hal… dir?” Orophin blinked, slowly regaining consciousness.

 

Elladan, who was seated at Orophin’s other side, immediately moved in closer and made sure he was in his lover’s view. “Orophin? You scared me!”

 

Haldir realized it was time to step back and give Elladan a chance to prove himself as his brother’s lover. But it was hard, stepping back. He maintained his hold on Orophin’s hand though, needing the contact.

 

Thranduil unexpectedly entered, and advanced on his patient. “Ah, you are awake!” Pleased to find that Orophin had regained consciousness, he turned to an Elf, who was passing by, and asked him to bring food and water. He looked at Haldir, saw his son in law’s torn expression and nodded in understanding. It was hard to step back and let a lover move in. He had done that when Legolas had chosen Haldir as his mate.

 

Orophin blinked again, wondering why these Elves were hovering over him. He had recognized Haldir and Elladan, but the two blonds were strangers to him.

 

“I am Thranduil, and you are in the heart of Mirkwood. My healers have been looking after you.” Thranduil wondered if he should tell Orophin that Rúmil was still in a healing sleep, but he wasn’t sure Orophin knew his younger brother was wounded in the first place, so he remained quiet instead.

 

Orophin’s eyes widened at hearing the Woodland King introduce himself, but he was too exhausted to react to the words. Instead, he alternated between looking at Haldir and Elladan. “Did… everyone… survive?”

 

“Yes, everyone survived,” said Haldir quickly, not wanting to worry Orophin when his brother was still in such a weakened state. And they *had* assured him that Rúmil would recover. “We found refuge here in Mirkwood. King Thranduil kindly took us in.”

 

Thranduil chuckled softly, earning an admonishing look from Legolas. At times he felt like a child and he just knew Legolas sometimes felt like the responsible parent. But he couldn’t help it. He was who he was. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

 

“Thank… you,” whispered Orophin, in a tired tone. Looking at Elladan, he added, “Wa…ter?”

 

Hearing Orophin address Elladan instead of him, Haldir felt saddened. But then again, wasn’t it the normal way of life for the younger ones to take a mate? And hadn’t he done so himself without their knowledge? “Why don’t we leave the two of you alone? I am sure you have a lot to discuss.”

 

Orophin saw the ache in Haldir’s eyes, but lacked the strength and willpower to discuss this now and simply nodded his head once. “We will… talk… later.” Right now he wanted Elladan close – desperately.

 

Legolas kept an arm wrapped around Haldir’s shoulder, as they left the room. “Let me take you to our temporary quarters. I would rather dwell high up in our telain but that is too dangerous right now.”

 

“I don’t like living underground,” mumbled Haldir.

 

“Neither do I, but we have no choice. At least here we are safe.” Legolas exchanged a last look with his father and then led Haldir to their rooms.

 

Thranduil suddenly found himself standing alone in the corridor. Alone – always alone. Clutching his former lover’s miniature portrait through the fabric of his robes, he wished he wasn’t alone any more.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan assisted Orophin to slowly sip the water. “How do you fare, my love?” He had studied the silver-haired Elf extensively and was relieved to find his lover’s expression lucid and aware.

 

“I am tired,” whispered Orophin, who was slowly regaining his strength. “And my skin still burns.”

 

“The healer left behind a soothing balm, which I can apply again.” Elladan reached for the balm and began to smooth it onto the red, angry skin. “I am so glad you survived.” His relief nearly brought tears to his eyes. “I was so afraid I would lose you before I had the chance to tell you I love you!”

 

“I already knew… that you loved me,” said Orophin, still feeling fatigued. “But… I was afraid… to tell you… You are Lord Elrond’s son… and I am a sentry… Not a good match.”

 

“I don’t care about that!” Elladan suddenly exploded with emotion. “I love you and I want to be with you! No one – not even Sauron himself! – will keep me away from you!” He had applied the balm to all burns and now put it away, leaning in closer until his lips were only an inch away from Orophin’s. “I love you!”

 

“And I love you,” whispered Orophin, happily. “But—“

 

“No! No more buts! You and I belong together and I am not giving you up, ever!” Needing to prove his words, he gently claimed Orophin’s lips.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Magolion? Where are you and what are you doing?” Elrohir had briefly stepped outside to accept the tray with food and wine one of Thranduil’s Elves had brought, and when he stepped inside again, he had found the dark-haired Elf gone.

 

“I am here, Elrohir. Don’t worry.” Magolion had stepped into the bathroom to wash the grime and dried blood from his face. “I am feeling much better.” He had taken off his shirt in order to wash up and looked at Elrohir via the mirror when the half-Elf appeared in the doorway. “It was the shock of being thrown off my feet.”

 

Elrohir placed the tray on a side table and walked toward the other Elf, studying him by looking at his reflection. “There is something different about you.” He saw it in the eyes, but couldn’t label the sensation.

 

Still looking at Elrohir in the mirror, Magolion nodded once. “Something has changed for me.”

 

“And what is that?” Elrohir turned Magolion around and embraced him.

 

“I have made peace with myself.” Running his fingers through Elrohir’s long hair, he smiled calmly. “When I pushed Erestor out of harm’s way I knew I could pay the ultimate price and die myself. But the Valar decided differently and I lived. I tried to make my amends. It is now up to Erestor to decide where we go from here.”

 

Elrohir listened patiently, rubbing the soft skin of Magolion’s back.

 

“I realized that Erestor means something to me. I am not sure if I love him as a brother should, but when I realized he was about to be crushed by those rocks I had to act – had to get him into safety.” Magolion rested his head on Elrohir’s shoulder, breathing in the half-Elf’s spicy scent. Elrohir smelled of pine and herbs and he smiled, rubbing his cheek against the other’s shoulder. “I have changed. I have changed a great deal and I finally realize I want to continue on this path and never return to my old ways.”

 

Elrohir nodded, still stroking the smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

 

“I hope that Erestor will see that I changed my ways, but I also know that it will take time. I spent most of my life making him miserable. I cannot undo that in one moment.” Magolion raised his head and looked Elrohir in the eyes. “But at least I feel more worthy of you now.”

 

Elrohir smiled kindly. “More worthy?”

 

“Yes… I didn’t want you to know about the attraction I felt for you as long as I was this despicable person. I feel more deserving of your love now.”

 

“You have come a long way,” remarked Elrohir passionately. “And you *are* worthy of my love.”

 

Magolion smiled regretfully. “I would have continued to hurt Erestor, and the ones close to him if it hadn’t been for you and your father. The two of you opened my eyes and made me face myself. I cannot thank you enough for that.” He placed the palm of his hand against Elrohir’s cheek, rubbing the smooth, facial skin. “And then I fell in love with you. I thought my love was utterly doomed and assumed an alias.”

 

“I knew all along who you were,” said Elrohir, smiling weakly. “But you felt comfortable pretending you were someone else so I let you.” Running a fingertip along Magolion’s upper lip, he added, “Give Erestor time. He needs some peace and quiet to work through everything that has happened to him.”

 

“I understand that. I just wish…” Magolion didn’t get a change to finish, finding his lips otherwise engaged.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Erestor?” Glorfindel had finished combing his lover’s hair, removing the charred bits. After braiding it into a loose plait, he remained kneeling on the bed behind him. “Why can I no longer sense your thoughts?”

 

Erestor looked at him from over his shoulder. “Maybe it only works when I am in danger?”

 

“Maybe you don’t want me to know your thoughts right now?” Glorfindel knew he was treading on thin ice, but also realized they had to discuss this sooner or later. And he had decided sooner would be best.

 

Erestor moved on the bed until he was sitting cross-legged, facing Glorfindel. “Maybe,” he admitted reluctantly. “Where do we stand, Glorfindel?”

 

Glorfindel swallowed hard. Still kneeling in front of Erestor, he gathered his beloved’s hands in his. “I talked to Lindir and Elrond after you left. Elrond even gave me a journal to write my thoughts down. I realized I had been running away from you for a long time. Well, I pushed you away to be exact.”

 

“Why?” Erestor felt hopeful now that Glorfindel was finally showing some insight into his feelings and motives.

 

Glorfindel released a deep sigh. “I lost everyone dear to me when Gondolin fell,” he explained, caressing Erestor’s long fingers. “And even worse, I lost myself. When I was reborn, I felt deserted, and utterly alone. And then you professed your love for me. But I knew it couldn’t -- wouldn’t -- last. That you would leave me, desert me like all the others had, and I wasn’t strong enough to take that risk and commit to you. When you left for Lothlórien I was convinced I was right; you had finally deserted me. But Elrond and Lindir showed me differently.”

 

Erestor had listened breathlessly, staring at Glorfindel with hope in his dark eyes.

 

“I made so many mistakes, Erestor.” Tears built in his eyes. “I will never forgive myself for being too tired to comfort you during those nights when you cried yourself to sleep.”

 

“Oh, meleth…” Unable to remain passive, Erestor gently pressed his lips against Glorfindel. “I forgive you.”

 

Glorfindel began to sob, his swimming eyes pleadingly fastening on Erestor’s. “You…do? You forgive…me?” He had hoped Erestor that would understand and forgive, but to actually hear the words made him cry.

 

Erestor nodded. “Glorfindel, I never stopped loving you. I knew there was a reason why you were acting in that way, but I was a coward too. I also made mistakes. Don’t take the blame entirely, part of it is mine.”

 

“I want to bind myself to you,” stated Glorfindel unexpectedly. “I want you to be a part of me.” Anguish coursed through him, remembering a time when Erestor had wanted them to bind. “I will never reject you again!”

 

Erestor’s eyes hadn’t stayed dry either, and were now also releasing hot tears – but from happiness this time. “I want that too.”

 

“You are the love of my life and when you left… I never knew such despair before.” Glorfindel rubbed Erestor’s hands, trying to convince himself his lover was truly close and accepting him into his life again. “Would you… Do you want to…?” He had never found it hard to utter those words before, but this time he couldn’t.

 

“Are you asking me if I want to make love with you?” said Erestor, taking an educated guess. “It is my heart’s desire.”

 

But suddenly Glorfindel sensed a trace of hesitance in Erestor’s voice and it made him frown. “We don’t have to do this now… I can wait.”

 

“No, I want to make love, but…” Erestor blushed, and lost the courage to express his greatest desire. “I… I…”

 

“What is it, love?” Glorfindel wondered what he was missing and thought back to all the times they had made love before. Erestor had always been an eager participant so what was different now?

 

“It is nothing,” said Erestor, dismissively. “How do you want me?”

 

Glorfindel suddenly felt alarmed, but wasn’t sure why. Erestor had asked that question many times before, but this time something was different. This time he saw the disappointment in the dark eyes.

 

Erestor unbuttoned his robes and let them slide down his shoulders. “Oh, I do love you, Glorfindel. Stop worrying.”

 

What was it? What was he missing? Not knowing what Erestor was holding back was driving Glorfindel insane. When Erestor briefly left the bed to step out of the robes, Glorfindel cringed at the marks Sauron had left behind on his lover’s body, but still… there was something else troubling him.

 

Naked now, Erestor returned to the bed, and laid down on his back, spreading his legs in invitation. “How do you want me?”

 

And suddenly the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “No, how do *you* want *me*?” He gently pulled Erestor back into a sitting position and studied the suddenly large eyes. Erestor hadn’t thought he would figure it out. “I remember now… I remember the times when you asked to take me instead. I never said yes, did I?”

 

Erestor’s desire was quickly dwindling and he used a corner of the sheet to cover himself up. “Must we discuss this now?” He was blushing to the roots of his hair and avoided Glorfindel’s gaze at all cost.

 

“Yes, we must.” Glorfindel lifted Erestor’s chin so the dark-haired Elf was forced to look at him. Vexed, he realized that Erestor had closed his eyes. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

 

Erestor sighed and did as he was told. “It is of no importance.”

 

“Oh, but I disagree. It *is* important. I always told you I would let you take me the next time we made love, but when that time arrived I would take you again. I have been such a fool!” He had brushed off his lover’s needs to feed his own. “Do you wish to take me, love? And answer truthfully.”

 

“I… I would savor the experience…” mumbled Erestor in an insecure tone. “I would like to be inside you… Just once… To know how it feels.”

 

Glorfindel felt like a bastard for never having honored his lover’s wishes before. “I am so sorry for mistreating you, love.”

 

Erestor managed a weak smile. “As I said before; it is of no importance.” He felt awkward now that Glorfindel was looking at him in *that* way – a predatory way.

 

“Please make love to me, Erestor.” Glorfindel quickly removed his clothes and then scooted closer to Erestor, folding his arms around him. “Believe me, I want this too.”

 

But Erestor remained unconvinced. “You never wanted this before.”

 

“Because I was a fool and a coward – running away from my feelings and needs.” Glorfindel took hold of Erestor’s hand and placed it against his bare chest. “We have made love before, meleth. You know what to do.”

 

“But I never…” He had never been on top before! “I don’t know if I will be able to please you and I am not certain you really want this.”

 

“Oh, but I do want this!” said Glorfindel passionately. He guided Erestor’s hands to his hardening flesh and kissed him passionately. Running the fingers of his free hand down his lover’s back, he thrust against him to prove his desire. “Believe me,” he panted softly, after releasing Erestor’s now bruised lips.

 

Feeling Glorfindel harden beneath his touch sparked Erestor’s own passion and he moaned softly, leaning in to return as good a kiss as he had been given. Bruising Glorfindel’s lips in a demanding kiss, his fingers curled around the blond’s hot flesh, stroking firmly. Suddenly passion flared between them and he felt on fire.

 

Glorfindel cunningly brought up his arms behind Erestor’s back, spread his legs and took the dark-haired Elf down with him. Looking at the raven-haired beauty hovering above him, he gently stroked the soft skin, staying clear of the burns. He saw the same specks of fire in Erestor’s eyes as he had seen in Sauron’s keep and this time he knew it wasn’t his imagination. Liquid fire swam in Erestor’s eyes and he greedily devoured his lover’s lips. Erestor’s erection pressed against his opening and Glorfindel suddenly realized their problem. “Oil, love. We need oil.”

 

Frustrated, Erestor actually released a growl. “Where…?”

 

“Look in my pockets,” advised Glorfindel. He usually kept some sandalwood oil close to untangle his wayward hair.

 

Erestor regretted moving off of Glorfindel, but didn’t have a choice. What he had always wanted was within reach – Glorfindel would let him take him, and he needed that oil.

 

Glorfindel whistled softly in appreciation, seeing Erestor’s firm buttocks as his lover bent down to search the pockets of his breeches. “Don’t take too long, you tease.” It amazed him how good it felt to reverse roles; it was something he could definitely become used to. Stretching his body, he grabbed a pillow and pushed it beneath his hips, elevating them. “Come here, my love. Don’t make me wait,” he purred seductively.

 

Erestor hurried back to his lover, almost dropping the phial with oil when he saw the blond in this state of abandon. He had never seen Glorfindel surrender before!

 

“Oh, you are so sweet,” whispered Glorfindel, eagerly claiming Erestor’s hand and pulling the dark-haired Elf toward him. “Allow me.” Having seen Erestor fumble nervously with the phial he judged it best to take over before they ended up with glass shards in their bed. He managed to take hold of the oil, removed the stopper and let a generous amount of the liquid drip onto his lover’s erection. “Take me…”

 

Wide-eyed, Erestor allowed Glorfindel to guide him. “No, I should prepare—“

 

Glorfindel shushed Erestor with another kiss. Relaxing his body, he savored the sensation of his lover sliding deeper inside him. “Oh, we should have done this centuries ago. I was such a fool!” He stilled briefly now that Erestor was buried to the hilt to adjust to the bulk inside him. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, catching his lover’s tears on the tips of his fingers. “Please, don’t cry.”

 

“I cannot help it,” panted Erestor softly, “These are tears of joy.” He had always wondered how it would feel -- being inside his lover -- to be a part of Glorfindel and now he knew. Lowering himself onto his elbows, he nuzzled the blond’s throat, licking and nibbling softly. “This feels… good.” He blanketed the golden-haired Elf with his body, amazed at the fact that he hadn’t come yet.

 

Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor and waited for his lover to make eye contact. “Why don’t you thrust, love?”

 

“I don’t want this to be over – ever.” Erestor stared at Glorfindel with large, warm eyes. “I want to stay like this forever.”

 

“Meleth? I don’t know about you, but some sort of release would be more than welcome.” Glorfindel couldn’t help himself and raised his hips. Apparently his aim was still perfect as his lover’s erection brushed that very pleasurable spot inside him. “Oh, yes.”

 

Now that Glorfindel was taking himself, Erestor’s own need flared and he thrust experimentally.

 

“Ooooooh….” Glorfindel moaned, thrust back and soon they had established a comfortable rhythm. Raising a hand, he let his fingers comb through his lover’s raven hair. “We can be like this forever, Erestor. Time and time again.”

 

Finally understanding that things had really changed between them, Erestor nodded and thrust more forcefully, repeatedly rubbing his lover’s pleasure gland. Suddenly the tight passage around him contracted and hot cream splashed onto his belly. “You came…” Part of him had wondered if Glorfindel truly enjoyed being on the receiving end, but now he stopped doubting his lover’s words. Releasing a triumphant growl, he finally found release and collapsed on top of his lover, letting Glorfindel hold him.

 

But there was one effect neither of them had foreseen. Bright, red – nearly golden—fire erupted inside their minds, driving them toward each other. In a fire fed dance their fëar moved closer, intertwined and only separated once their feelings of ecstasy had worn off.

 

Panting hard, Erestor searched Glorfindel’s satiated eyes. “I don’t know… what that was…about.”

 

Glorfindel, feeling incredibly sated and comfortable, lazily caressed his lover’s face. “I had a taste of that before -- when you first reached out to me. You left me in ecstasy that first time. Mithrandir said I had gotten a taste of your love, powered by your Istar abilities.”

 

“I am too tired to think this over,” admitted Erestor, who rolled off of his lover and lay down on his side, watching Glorfindel’s dilated pupils and topaz irises. “None of that now, please.” He snuggled up to the blond, enjoying being held close as Glorfindel buried him a hug. “Did you really not mind me taking you?”

Glorfindel felt pangs of guilt and regret, looking into Erestor’s large, questioning eyes. He had made so many mistakes! “I welcomed it. How can you doubt that? We shared an amazingly intense climax together. Do you really think we would have experienced that… fire… if I hadn’t been enjoying feeling you inside of me?”

 

“I was just wondering,” mumbled Erestor, once more resting his head on Glorfindel’s chest. “Because you never wanted to do it this way before.”

 

“I was a fool,” repeated Glorfindel, kissing the top of Erestor’s hair and cursing Sauron for putting these burns onto his lover’s flesh. “I didn’t know what I had until I lost you. I vow I will never push you away ever again.”

 

“I like that,” mumbled Erestor in a sleepy tone. Finally finding peace of mind in Glorfindel’s arms, he slipped into a restful sleep.

 

Sleep however eluded Glorfindel for a very long time, but he found some measure of comfort in the fact that he had managed to reclaim his lover. Now he only had to fully convince Erestor that things were different -- better -- between them from now on!


	4. Chapter 4

Part 31

 

Mithrandir reacted at once when Rúmil stirred. He had been keeping this vigil for hours now, and had watched closely, hoping the Galadhel would regain consciousness. However, he wasn’t prepared for the pain-filled yelp that left Rúmil’s dry, chapped lips. “All is well, Rúmil. All is well.” He acted quickly, moved into Rúmil’s line of sight and squeezed the other’s hand, showing his charge he wasn’t alone. “We are safe now.”

 

Rúmil felt disorientated and half expected to find the Nazgûl looming over him. He had dreamt of them and those dreams hadn’t been pleasant. They had haunted him down and had killed him several times. Shaking like a leaf, his gaze latched onto Mithrandir’s form, hoping to find a sense of safety when focusing on the Wizard. Once Mithrandir’s face came in to his view his vision blurred again. Instead of the old, wrinkled face, he saw that of a young, fair Elf. But he instinctively knew he wasn’t looking at an ordinary Elf. This was one of the Maia he was looking upon.

 

Mithrandir forced himself to stay in place, knowing Rúmil’s vision would clear quickly and show him in his normal appearance, that of an old, gray-haired Wizard. “Try to remain calm, my dearest friend. The wound the Nazgûl inflicted will continue to hamper you for the next few days and it’s important you rest.” Letting go of Rúmil’s hand, he reached for the carafe filled with water, poured a glass and then helped Rúmil sip.

 

Rúmil’s big and questioning eyes remained trained on him and Mithrandir began to feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny. After easing Rúmil down onto the bed again, he sat back, creating some distance between them. Thranduil had told him to find out where Rúmil stood in this matter, but he didn’t think this was the right time to ask such questions. Rúmil needed to recover first.

 

Rúmil panted softly, trying to bite down the pain slashing through his back where the Nazgûl had buried his sword. He had so many questions, but his vocal chords wouldn’t cooperate. As a matter of fact, his entire body seemed to sabotage his intentions by remaining unresponsive.

 

“Go back to sleep, Rúmil.” Unable to maintain his distance when Rúmil was giving him such pleading looks, Mithrandir moved from his chair to the side of the bed. He was deeply touched, seeing Rúmil unsteadily reach for his hand. But the Elf’s coordination was off and Mithrandir acted instead, claiming Rúmil’s trembling hand and cradling it within his. “Sleep now,” he whispered, putting a minor spell on the recuperating Elf. The blue-gray eyes lost their awareness as Rúmil slipped under again. “Sleep tight, Rúmil. I won’t leave your side until you are well on your way to recovery.” He could afford to stay a few weeks. The Ring was still hidden, but it wouldn’t take Bilbo long to find it. When the moment came, he had to be ready. For now, he simply enjoyed looking at Rúmil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor lazily remained in bed even though his instincts told him Arien had long risen. But here, underground, where sunlight didn’t penetrate, time mattered little. At times he heard noise coming from the corridor, but no one disturbed them. For one moment he wondered where his father had gone. He felt guilty that Mithrandir had felt the need to leave them alone. He wanted to spend time with Mithrandir, to get to know him, but before he could do that he had to sort out the chaos he had left behind when leaving Imladris.

 

“Why are you brooding?”

 

Glorfindel’s purring voice made him smile and he looked at his lover. Sometime during the night they had moved about in bed, and Glorfindel had ended up on his back, his head resting in Erestor’s lap. Reaching down, he began to stroke the golden hair. “I am thinking of my father.”

 

Glorfindel’s gaze remained locked with Erestor’s. “He was afraid you wouldn’t forgive him for keeping silent should Sauron tell you the truth.”

 

“Sauron told me that Mithrandir is my father, but I didn’t believe him at first,” recalled Erestor, “but when our situation became grave, Orophin suggested I reached out to him. When I sensed his thoughts I knew Sauron had told the truth.”

 

Glorfindel raised a hand and caressed Erestor’s face. “Do you know that you reached out to me when those Orcs took you?”

 

Erestor frowned, puzzled. “I did?”

 

“Yes, I heard your call and I armed myself. I was on my way to the stables when Elrohir and Magolion came upon me. They tried to stop me, but I told them that you needed me and that I would leave no matter what.” He had noticed the way Erestor had tensed at hearing his brother’s name and said, “You might not believe it, but Magolion and I worked hard to abandon our former ways and adopt new ones. I didn’t trust him at first either, but he even apologized to Lindir for what happened in Lindon.”

 

Erestor’s eyes darkened with anger. “He hurt Lindir! No apology can make up for that!”

 

“But it is a start.” Glorfindel ran a fingertip along Erestor’s jaw line. “You have given me a second chance, why not do the same for him?”

 

“Because I love you. I don’t love him.” Frustrated, Erestor wished Glorfindel would understand. “My brother cannot be trusted!”

 

“Elrohir seems to trust him.” Glorfindel cringed, seeing a momentary return of the liquid fire in Erestor’s eyes. “Oh, love, you need to learn how to control that.”

 

Glorfindel’s comment at first didn’t make any sense to Erestor, but feeling the fire rise inside him, he immediately extinguished it. “Elrohir is just his latest victim.”

 

Glorfindel shook his head; his soft hair gently teasing Erestor’s skin. “I don’t think so.” But Erestor’s stubborn expression told him his lover was convinced Magolion was still evil. It was time to do away with this tension and introduce a new topic. “Elrond and Lindir were very happy when I left Imladris.”

 

Erestor’s expression immediately brightened. “Lindir has loved Elrond for a long time.”

 

“They seem well-matched,” said Glorfindel approvingly, “And what about us?”

 

Erestor ran his fingers through Glorfindel’s golden hair. “We will try to build a new, more solid relationship this time.”

 

“And we will bind ourselves,” added Glorfindel, knowing it was important to Erestor that he made this commitment. Therefore he blinked, seeing Erestor shake his head. “No? Why?”

 

“I don’t want you to bind yourself to me because I want that. I want you to commit to me because *you* want that.” A hint of sadness slipped into Erestor’s voice. “We must be open and honest about the things we want and don’t want. And yes, I know I haven’t been honest with you either. I felt… insecure… I was afraid to lose you… So I kept my thoughts to myself.”

 

“And I never asked what was troubling you. I turned around and fell asleep whilst you were crying beside me.” Glorfindel unexpectedly sat upright and kissed his lover. “I vow that it will never happen again.”

 

Erestor lay back and pulled Glorfindel with him. With their arms wrapped around them, they held each other close. “I hope so,” said Erestor thoughtfully, “But what will happen once we are home again? We will leave for Imladris in the next few days and what if we slip into our old habits?”

 

“We will make sure it won’t happen,” said Glorfindel confidently, running his fingertips up and down Erestor’s chest. “Maybe I could continue to speak with Elrond about my past. He helped me to put everything in perspective after you left.”

 

Erestor smiled, kissed Glorfindel’s brow and looked forward to going home again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elladan?” Elrohir slipped into the next room and easily spotted Elladan in the chair next to Orophin’s bed.

 

Elladan smiled, cocked his head and welcomed his brother. “How is Magolion?”

 

“He has almost completely recovered. He is still a bit unsteady, but not seriously injured.” Elrohir looked at Orophin, finding the sentry in a deep sleep. They had been here only one day, but the burns were already beginning to fade. “What do the healers say about Orophin?”

 

“His healing ability is aiding his recovery. Apparently, it wasn’t working when they were in the keep with Sauron, but he is growing stronger again.” Elladan signaled for Elrohir to approach and his twin sat down on the armrest of his chair. “What troubles you?” He knew his twin well enough to know Elrohir had a reason for seeking him out.

 

“Did you tell Orophin you love him yet?” Elrohir searched his twin’s face and read the answer to his question in the calm, gray eyes.

 

“Yes, I did. And he told me he loved me in turn.” Elladan smiled happily. “I will ask him to come to Imladris with me once he is fit to travel.”

 

“It is a strange thing,” pondered Elrohir aloud, “The three of them always were together and now Haldir has found a new home here in Mirkwood. Orophin will come to Imladris with us and Rúmil…”

 

“Rúmil…” Elladan frowned. “Will he come to Imladris as well?”

 

“I doubt it. He is one the Galadhrim, and unbound. His heart will tell him to go home to the Golden Wood.” Elrohir reached for his twin’s hand and Elladan indulged him, linking their fingers. “I want to go home too,” he said honestly. “Father will worry until the day we come home to him.”

 

Elladan nodded. “Recovery will take Orophin a few more days, but then we should be able to leave. Do you think Erestor and Glorfindel will accompany us?”

 

“I don’t know about Erestor. He might want to stay close to his father.” Elrohir smiled. “I never thought he could be Mithrandir’s son.”

 

“Neither did I,” admitted Elladan.

 

“Could the two of you… be quiet? I am… trying… to sleep,” came Orophin’s soft, amused voice. He blinked and looked at the twins. “Have some… mercy… on me.”

 

Elrohir smiled brilliantly and leaned in closer. “You gave us a scare, Orophin. My brother especially.”

 

“That was not… my intent,” said Orophin, who still felt tired and weak.

 

Elladan left the chair and sat down on the side of the bed, smiling adoringly at the sentry. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, melethen?”

 

Orophin’s smile became radiant, hearing Elladan call him that. “I can think… of several… things.”

 

“Behave!” Elrohir, grinning wickedly, got to his feet and walked over to the doorway. He knew when to leave them alone and afford them some privacy. “You aren’t *up* yet to playing such games!”

 

“Behave… yourself,” whispered Orophin, enjoying the bantering, and staring at Elladan.

 

Elladan heard the door close behind him, signaling his brother had left, and then leaned in closer to kiss Orophin. The injured Elf tried to return the kiss, but lacked his usual strength and stamina. Elladan pulled back, and looked into Orophin’s eyes, which were growing unfocused again. “We have the rest of our lives left to misbehave. Now sleep.”

 

And sleep was exactly what Orophin did.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrohir found Magolion naked, seated on the bed, and re-braiding his damp hair. Apparently, the dark-haired Elf had used his absence to clean up and wash his hair. The pleasant scent of berries and lavender floated through the room – a strange, almost exotic combination.

 

“Ah, there you are.” Magolion had wondered where Elrohir had gone when he had emerged from the bathroom.

 

“I spoke with my brother,” said Elrohir, taking in Magolion’s form. He had never seen him naked before and his body reacted instantly. Heat rose inside him, causing him to grow hard. Magolion however continued to braid his hair and seemed oblivious of his predicament. So far they had only shared a few kisses when they had kept watch over the others at night and this was their first moment alone – and safe.

 

Magolion wondered about the half-Elf, who remained standing near the doorway, but as his gaze dropped, he encountered the reason for Elrohir’s unease. The Peredhel was hard, his skin flushed and the eyes had darkened to black. “Come over here, Elrohir.” Sitting cross-legged, he waited for Elrohir to join him on the bed. “We need to talk.”

 

“Talk?” Elrohir had hoped they would be doing other, more carnal and pleasurable things! Not talk!

 

Magolion nodded once. “We do need to talk first. I never experienced anything like this before. Until now, I only made conquests to hurt my brother’s feelings. I never had a lover. Things are different now and I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

 

Elrohir had calmed down during Magolion’s speech. “I must agree. You are right.”

 

“We should find out what we want this relationship to be about and where we are headed. If it is just a fling or something more.” Magolion studied Elrohir’s expressive gray eyes. “To me it is more – a lot more than a fling. I need to know where you stand.” He thought he knew, but they had to say it.

 

“To me it is love,” said Elrohir determinedly. “I know that our love will meet with some suspicion on Erestor’s part, and even my father will be displeased for some time, but I am willing to face their judgment in order to be with you.”

 

“It isn’t fair that you should pay for my past mistakes.” Magolion drew in a deep breath. “You changed me and I would lay down my life to save yours. I love you so much.” Rubbing his fingers along Elrohir’s cheek, his heart fluttered, seeing the half-Elf close his eyes and lean into the caress. “I am yours as long as I will live.”

 

Elrohir opened his eyes, smiled, and began to remove his clothes. “You already have a head start on me,” he said teasingly.

 

Magolion sat back and watched Elrohir undress. Once they were both naked, they embraced, kissing sweetly. He had no idea what Elrohir liked in bed, what his lover’s preferences were and wondered if he should ask. But his questions were answered when Elrohir pushed him down onto his back, eagerly licking his way down his throat. “Oh, yesssss,” he purred in delight.

 

Elrohir smiled, and took his time exploring his lover’s body. Moving above Magolion, he was thrilled to find that the dark-haired Elf reacted to his every touch. His lover was already squirming beneath him, begging to be touched in more intimate places. Elrohir instinctively realized there wouldn’t be much foreplay. They had been working steadily to this point and it was time to release the sensual pressure that had been building. Raising himself on all fours, he predatorily looked down at his lover. Magolion’s eyes had taken on a dark green color and his lover was panting softly, rubbing his groin against his lower body. “Take yourself for me?”

 

Green eyes widened with delight. “If that is your wish…” Elrohir unexpectedly grabbed hold of him, and rolled him atop. Straddling Elrohir’s hips, Magolion leaned in closer, kissed him and then reached for the oil he had used to rub onto his skin. “Like this?”

 

Elrohir smiled coyly, finding Magolion’s hands were already coating his throbbing erection with the sweet oil. “Oh, yes…” Letting Magolion set their pace and take control, he watched entranced as the dark-haired Elf raised himself in order to slowly lower himself again. The tip of his hard flesh brushed against his lover’s tight opening and he moaned in need when the head began to push inside.

 

Magolion’s brow furrowed with concentration. Slowly, he took in more of his lover’s length until his buttocks rested in Elrohir’s lap. With Elrohir completely sheathed inside him, he relished the feeling of the half-Elf being a part of him. Supporting himself by placing the palms of his hands against Elrohir’s chest, he began to move.

 

“Oh yes, take yourself.” Elrohir dazedly stared at his lover, who had thrown back his head and was now riding him – hard. Grabbing Magolion’s hips, he offered the dark-haired Elf some additional support, but he still let his lover set the pace. Magolion bit his bottom lip, and a single droplet of blood flowed down his chin, which Elrohir caught with a fingertip. “So wild…” Unable to hold back any longer, he thrust hard, making Magolion groan at the new sensation.

 

Magolion forced his eyes open, and looked at his lover. Elrohir definitely had a smug smile on his face, encouraging him to take himself faster. Magolion’s hair danced against his back and a fine layer of sweat formed on his body when he pushed himself to his limits. Intend on giving Elrohir as much pleasure as possible, he used his inner muscle to squeeze his lover’s flesh.

 

“Ai!” Elrohir grabbed a handful of his lover’s raven mane and pulled Magolion close enough to kiss him. Possessing his beloved’s mouth, he heard Magolion yelp softly when he thrust particularly aggressively. But the thrust had the desired result and pushed Magolion over the edge.

 

Magolion literally saw stars, finally finding release. Hot cream dripped onto Elrohir’s stomach and he almost collapsed atop of the half-Elf, but his lover supported him, as Elrohir delivered a few more deep thrusts. Oh, he would definitely be sore for the next few days, but making love to Elrohir was worth it!

 

Elrohir had arched his back, and spilled himself inside his lover’s body. Waves of intense pleasure swept through him, and when they finally faded away, he grew aware of the fact that his lover had collapsed on top of him. Bringing up his arms behind Magolion’s back, he rolled them onto their sides. They still lay facing each other, but rested more comfortably. He was about to slowly pull out when Magolion’s gaze met his.

 

“Don’t. Not yet.”

 

“But… That cannot be comfortable.”

 

Magolion brushed Elrohir’s brow with his lips. “I want to feel you inside of me for as long as possible.”

 

Eager to oblige his lover, Elrohir draped one leg over Magolion’s hip and pulled him close, making sure they remained connected. “Like this?”

 

“Thank you,” whispered Magolion sleepily. “I have wanted this for so long… but I never thought… you would think me… worthy.” Now that a lot of his tension had found a way out, Magolion relaxed and drifted off into sleep.

 

Elrohir held his lover close, wondering about Magolion and remembering the other’s former dark ways. But that was in the past and the future lay ahead of them, open and inviting. “I love you,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss on his lover’s hair.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One week later.

 

“Ada? They are about to leave. We should say our goodbyes.” Legolas entered his father’s temporary room, knowing Thranduil longed to return to the telain as much as he did, but as long as the threat of Dol Guldur remained they had to stay underground.

 

Thranduil was seated on the bed, cross-legged, and looking at Remmen’s image. He held the portrait in his hands, and his thumb gently caressed the small canvas.

 

“Ada?” Legolas’ heart broke all over again, remembering the grief Thranduil had gone through when his mate had died. “I miss him too.” Sitting down next to Thranduil, he wrapped an arm around the elder Elf’s waist. “Don’t you think it is time for you to find a new mate?”

 

Thranduil laughed – strangely bitter. “Legolas, my heart will always belong to your father. How can I take a lover when Remmen remains in my heart?”

 

“He wouldn’t want you to wither away.” Legolas studied Thranduil’s emerald eyes. “I wish you would find someone to share your life with. You deserve someone who loves you.”

 

“Why don’t you concentrate on your lover?” suggested Thranduil. “Are Haldir and you truly happy?”

 

“Yes, we are,” said Legolas sweetly. “And he will stay here in Mirkwood. He won’t return to the Golden Wood, even when Celeborn’s call comes.”

 

“I am happy for you.” Thranduil brushed a wayward strand of silver hair behind his son’s pointy ear. “So they are leaving?”

 

“Yes. Orophin has made a full recovery and wants to stay close to his lover. He will accompany the twins to Imladris.”

 

“And what about Erestor?” Thranduil had seen Mithrandir and Erestor often talk to one another this last week, and understood if a week wasn’t enough for them.

 

“Erestor and Glorfindel will also return to Imladris. They will all journey together.”

 

“And Mithrandir?” The Wizard had divided his time between his son and Rúmil, and he had seen Mithrandir grown more attached to the sentry, who was only slowly recovering. Rúmil hadn’t left his bed yet, and his back still hampered him.

 

“He will stay.” Legolas arched an eyebrow. “I do think his staying has a lot to do with the fact that Rúmil will remain here too. They are drawn to each other.”

 

“You think the attraction is mutual?” Thranduil thought so too, but Mithrandir remained unconvinced to act on it.

 

“I do.” Legolas gave Thranduil a thoughtful look. It seemed everyone had found love, except for his father, who deserved it most in his view.

 

“I will join you in a moment, my son. I merely wish to freshen up first.” He slipped his former lover’s portrait back into a pocket and then allowed Legolas to hug him. “You are a delight,” he said, complimenting his son. “Now go. I will join you shortly.”

 

Legolas’ heart felt heavy, leaving his father’s rooms.

 

Haldir, who had been waiting for him in the corridor, saw immediately that his lover’s mood had darkened. He hadn’t thought it possible, but Thranduil had become more of a father to him than Celeborn. There was something about the elder Woodland Elf that touched him deeply. Legolas’ expression told him that his husband was in no mood for conversation and they walked in silence, finally joining the Imladris’ party that was about to leave.

 

Equipped with some of Thranduil’s finest horses, they waited patiently for the Woodland King to join them. Especially Glorfindel had realized he’d had misconceptions where the ruler was concerned and had been surprised to discover he actually liked the Elf. His gaze shifted from Erestor to the twins, both flanked by their lovers. Elrohir and Magolion had let go of any pretence and now openly admitted their love. Elladan and Orophin also reveled in their love for each other. It was a true delight to see the twins happy.

 

There was only one thing that troubled Glorfindel; Erestor. His lover still refused to consider the possibility that Magolion had truly changed his ways and avoided dealing with his brother as much as possible. As far as Glorfindel knew, Erestor had only spoken with Magolion once, and that had been to formally thank him for saving his life. But there had been suspicion in his lover’s voice when addressing Magolion. Once again, he told himself to be patient and reminded himself he also had matters left to discuss with his lover. His musings were interrupted when Thranduil finally appeared.

 

Thranduil was dressed in his usual uniform, made of the deepest green leather. His hip-long golden hair framed his handsome face and danced against his back. The emerald eyes were alive, but there was also a hint of tears in them, which made Glorfindel wonder. He had wondered about the Woodland King before, realizing sadness and loneliness surrounded him. “My Lord…”

 

Thranduil smiled warmly and nodded his head. “So you are finally leaving us!”

 

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks. “We are certain that our father is most grateful that you took us in. Maybe you would do us the honor of visiting Imladris and tasting our hospitality in return?”

 

The smile faded from Thranduil’s eyes. “I would love to visit as I have heard many tales of your home’s beauty, but I cannot possibly leave my people as long as a threat remains.”

 

Glorfindel understood completely. “Maybe in times of peace, then.” Thranduil had certainly earned his respect this last week.

 

“Maybe,” said Thranduil evasively. His gaze locked on Erestor, who was in the process of saying temporary goodbyes to his father. The burns had healed and smooth, silken skin had appeared where the marred skin had been. The raven hair shone healthily and the dark eyes sparkled with fire. Erestor would be fine.

 

“I hope you will have a safe journey,” said Thranduil, as his gaze came upon Haldir, who was giving Orophin a final embrace. Maybe he could send Legolas and Haldir to Imladris in his place one day. He would love to visit Imladris, that much was true, but he would feel completely out of place there. It would be best to send Legolas and Haldir, as Haldir would be reunited with one of his brothers.

 

Now that they had all said their goodbyes, Glorfindel gave the signal and the group left the caves, heading for Imladris.

 

Legolas comforted Haldir, who felt saddened at having to let Orophin go, and Mithrandir appeared at Thranduil’s side, placing a hand on the King’s shoulder. The Istar knew he would see Erestor again shortly, and although his heart was burdened when Erestor disappeared from sight, the connection remained. “You liked having them here,” he said, addressing Thranduil, tasting his friend’s bitter loneliness.

 

“Their voices filled the caves with life and laughter,” mumbled Thranduil absentmindedly.

 

“But you still have Legolas and Haldir.”

 

Thranduil’s sorrowful gaze met Mithrandir’s. “Haldir holds Legolas’ love, my friend.”

 

Mithrandir firmly shook his head, watching Legolas and Haldir leave for their rooms. “Legolas will always love you.”

 

Growing uncomfortable with the subject, he signaled for Mithrandir to follow him back into the caves again. “And how does Rúmil fare today?” He had checked on the Galadhel yesterday and had found him improving.

 

“I am hopeful that he will be able to leave his bed tomorrow,” said Mithrandir slowly. “And I should make plans to leave as well.”

 

Thranduil halted abruptly. “Why would you leave when Rúmil still needs you?” Mithrandir continued to walk, and Thranduil had no choice but follow him. “I don’t understand you!”

 

Mithrandir met Thranduil’s compassionate eyes. “It is time for Rúmil to focus on returning to the Golden Wood. Yesterday he mentioned joining me in my travels. I cannot possibly allow that. You know how dark and dangerous my business here is.”

 

Thranduil frowned. “Since when do you have the right to make his decisions for him? If he wants to accompany you then that is his business, not yours.”

 

“You are a romantic,” said Mithrandir, smiling fondly at the Woodland Elf. “You always were.” Sighing, he added, “It didn’t help that he saw me in my true form. He even calls me Olórin these days. He is also asking questions; why I choose this form to appear in and if I can change back, and…”

 

Thranduil laughed warmly. “He is in love with you, my friend. You are fighting a lost battle. The best thing you can do is to give in.” He clasped Mithrandir’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Rejoice, my friend. You have found love again.”

 

But Mithrandir shook his head. “I cannot allow this.” Suddenly he was spun around and faced Thranduil, whose emerald eyes were alight with mirth.

 

“It isn’t within your power to change his feelings. Stop fighting this.” Thranduil nodded once as if to stress his words. “Let Rúmil love you.”

 

“If only that were so easy…”

 

“It *is* that easy,” said Thranduil, smiling brightly. “Go to him and talk to him.” After uttering those words, he turned around and left his friend to his musings.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 32

 

Rúmil’s face came alive with a radiant smile upon Mithrandir’s return. As he was still confined to bed, he looked forward to the other’s long, daily visits. He had addressed him as Olórin on several occasions – feeling that name was more fitting – but the elder being had asked him not to do so, so he refrained from using it. “Mithrandir, it is good to see you again!” Especially now that Orophin had left did he want him close.

 

Mithrandir sat down on his chair and placed his staff against the wall. Thranduil was right; he knew it deep down in his heart. He couldn’t control the way Rúmil felt about him. But still, he could discourage the sentry. “This is my last visit—“ He had planned on saying more, but Rúmil’s startled yelp stopped him.

 

“What? You cannot leave yet!” Rúmil stared at Mithrandir in disbelief. “Wait a few more days until I am fit enough to accompany you!”

 

“I will travel by myself, Rúmil. After you have recovered you will return to the Golden Wood. I told you before that you aren’t coming with me.” He hated himself for putting the hurt in Rúmil’s eyes, but he was acting in the Elf’s best interest.

 

“No! I am not letting you go! You know that!” Frustrated, Rúmil managed to push the bed covers out of the way and he slowly began to rise, his face contorting as a terrible pain moved down his back.

 

Mithrandir acted at once, supporting the weakened Elf. “Lie down again! You are in no condition to—“ Whatever he had wanted to say never made it past his lips, as Rúmil took charge and claimed them in a firm kiss. He was too stunned to pull back and allowed it. Feeling Rúmil lean more heavily against him, he regained control of his senses and broke off the kiss, slowly lowering Rúmil back onto the bed. Speechless for the first time in his long life, he heavily sat down on his chair and stared at the silver-haired Elf in disbelief. His lips still tingled from the kiss, causing a most pleasant sensation in the rest of his body.

 

Rúmil, who at first had feared he had overstepped some boundaries, saw the expression in Mithrandir’s eyes and grinned wickedly. “You liked that.”

 

“Aiya, Rúmil, you shouldn’t have done that.” Mesmerized by the memory of said kiss, Mithrandir ran a fingertip along his lips. It had been so long since someone had kissed him!

 

“I beg to differ,” said Rúmil mischievously. “And I even plan on doing it again the moment I get the chance to kiss you.”

 

“Rúmil, you aren’t in love with me. You’re in love with an image, a reflection of my being. Here on Arda, I am Mithrandir, Gandalf, or by whatever name you choose to call me.”

 

“That might be so,” agreed Rúmil thoughtfully, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I have developed certain feelings for you. The only thing I pity is that I would never have realized them if I hadn’t seen you in your true form. I now know the real you.”

 

“Rúmil…”

 

“You stand no chance fighting this, you do know that?” asked Rúmil, smiling brightly.

 

“I am beginning to realize that,” mumbled Mithrandir, wondering about his next step. “But Rúmil—“

 

“No,” said Rúmil firmly, “You want this and so do I. Let’s take this risk and see if we work out.” He was determined to convince Mithrandir to give him his chance. “And let me call you Olórin… Please.”

 

“You don’t know what you are doing,” mumbled Mithrandir, still unconvinced this would work, but all he got was another smug grin from Rúmil.

 

“Very true. I have no idea what I am doing, but I do know *why* I am doing it. I am in love with you.”

 

That managed to truly shut Mithrandir up, who now stared at Rúmil, whilst shaking his head. He had never foreseen any of this, and had no idea what impact having Rúmil in his life would have for his future.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Let go! I can stand on my own!” Rúmil tried pushing Mithrandir away from him, but the other wouldn’t let him. Two days had passed since their kiss and they were treading carefully around each other. Mithrandir, however, was a bit too fussy when it came down to his recovery.

 

“And what if you take a fall? That would set back your recovery!” Mithrandir was also becoming frustrated as Rúmil simply wouldn’t listen to him. The Elf had a definite mind of his own.

 

“We won’t know until I have tried!” Rúmil managed to step away from Mithrandir and momentarily swayed precariously. He swatted the other’s hands away when the Wizard tried to steady him. Releasing a victorious growl, he took another step – unaided. “It looks like you can start planning our departure.”

 

Mithrandir mumbled something unintelligible. Now that Rúmil was determined to stay close to him, he had decided to remain in Mirkwood until he was satisfied that the Galadhel had made a complete recovery. Thankfully, Thranduil hadn’t made any teasing remarks when he had told the Woodland Elf he would prolong his stay here.

 

“Ah, he cares!” Rúmil gave Mithrandir a wicked look. Even in his current state of an old, doting Wizard he found Mithrandir adorable. During these last few weeks he had realized that appearances mattered little where the heart was concerned. He only wished Mithrandir would allow him to kiss him again.

 

“You are doing much better,” said Thranduil pleased, upon entering their room. “You won’t need my assistance any longer.”

 

Rúmil bowed respectfully. “Your care and concern were more than welcome.”

 

Thranduil inclined his head, sensing the tension between them. Mithrandir had told him about that kiss which had utterly shocked his old friend, and he understood the Wizard to a certain degree. Rúmil was young compared to the ancient one, but what Mithrandir seemed to forget was that the only thing that truly mattered was love. “I gather you will be leaving shortly, then?” he asked, addressing Mithrandir.

 

“Not until he has healed completely. I am not taking any risks!”

 

Rúmil’s eyes shone with love for the ancient Maia. “Olórin, you do care about me.”

 

Mithrandir mumbled some more, avoiding Rúmil’s gaze.

 

Thranduil laughed warmly, and said, “Rúmil, I hope Mithrandir and you will be very happy and don’t forget to visit once in a while.” After seeing the silver-haired Elf nod, he addressed Mithrandir. “And you, stop fighting him and accept this.” Not giving Mithrandir a chance to reply he quickly exited the room.

 

“I hate it when he does that,” admitted Mithrandir. For some reason Thranduil always managed to make him feel like a youngster who was in love for the first time.

 

“I love it when he does that,” teased Rúmil, who finally saw his chance to steal another kiss from Mithrandir’s lips.

 

This time, Mithrandir didn’t even bother to protest and simply enjoyed the kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Oh, yes… Ha…Haldir… h-har..der… a…gain… yessss!” Legolas urged Haldir to thrust deeper by arching his back and possessively suckling his lover’s skin. “Do it!”

 

Haldir obliged and stared in rapture at the form beneath him, which seemed to consist of pure and liquid silver. Legolas’ passion fueled his own and a moment later they found release simultaneously. “Oh, you undo me!” Legolas’ fabulous stamina had worn him out and he blanketed his lover with his body, studying the midnight-blue eyes. Legolas’ legs were still wrapped around his waist and made sure he stayed in place. He hadn’t expected the Woodland Prince to have such a possessive streak, but he did love him for it.

 

Panting hard, Legolas gave his lover a most wicked look. He was about to inquire if Haldir was up for another round when a soft knock interrupted their lovemaking. 

 

“Legolas? I thought…” Hearing soft grunts and hard panting, Thranduil realized he had arrived at a most inopportune movement. He had wondered why his son was shielding his thoughts from him and now he felt like a fool for not realizing the truth sooner. “I won’t disturb you anymore.” Embarrassed at having interrupted their lovemaking, he quickly marched down the corridor.

 

“Oh, damn it!”

 

Haldir’s eyes widened at hearing him curse. “What?”

 

“He doesn’t seek me out for no reason at all. Something has happened.” Legolas placed a kiss on his lover’s lips and then moved away from Haldir, who had pulled out and was kneeling between his legs. “I need to find out what it is. You do understand, don’t you, love?”

 

Yes, Haldir understood. “I can come with you,” he offered.

 

“That is very sweet of you, but—“

 

“Prince Legolas! There have been reports of returning Orcs! We need you at the border! Please hurry!”

 

Legolas groaned. “I cannot be in two places at the same time!”

 

“Why don’t you check the border and I will go see your father? I would like to get to know Thranduil better at any rate.” Haldir swept Legolas’ long, damp hair back, revealing his lover’s azure eyes once more. “Your father is in the best hands with me.” He vaguely wondered why the Captain of the guards had called for Legolas and not Thranduil. Maybe he would find some answers if Legolas allowed him to seek out the Woodland King.

 

“That sounds like a good plan,” said Legolas, who had moved off the bed and was now in the process of putting on his clothes. After stepping into his boots, he reached for his weapons. He was about to head for the doorway when he halted. He turned to Haldir, kissed him passionately, and then dashed out of the room.

 

An Elf, passing by, gave Haldir a curious look, reminding the silver-haired sentry that he was butt naked and he quickly closed the door.

 

After collecting his clothes from where they had been dropped during their way over to the bed, he dressed and then left their rooms as well. He had a pretty good idea where he would find Thranduil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You shouldn’t be out here. You are making yourself as an easy target.” Haldir had climbed the ancient tree and now sat down next to Thranduil, who sat cradled within an embrace of branches. The tree had automatically wrapped several branches around the Woodland King, but wouldn’t do the same thing for Haldir when he settled down.

 

“Then it is a good thing that Legolas isn’t around to lecture me,” said Thranduil ruefully. He had seen his son leave to check the border and had settled down for a lonely night, not expecting Haldir to show up instead. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I promised Legolas to look after you during his absence.” Haldir moistened his lips. “Why did you come to our rooms?”

 

“My timing couldn’t have been worse,” acknowledged Thranduil, not really answering the question, and hoping Haldir wouldn’t push for an answer.

 

Haldir decided on a different approach. “When I look at you I see Legolas. If it weren’t for the eyes you could be twins.”

 

That brought a weak smile to Thranduil’s face. “Yes, there is little of Remmen in Legolas.”

 

Haldir hoped he had found an opening for their conversation. “Is this about Remmen?”

 

Thranduil shrugged and stared at the starlight heavens. “It is a beautiful night.” But it would be even more beautiful if it wasn’t for the shadow creeping across his lands.

 

“Why is it that Legolas is so protective of you?” Haldir wondered if Thranduil would ever answer one of his questions. “Even I can sense the close connection between the two of you. I know you gave birth to him, but still…”

 

Thranduil’s head lolled to its right, finally making eye contact with the silver-haired Elf. “Do you really want to know? Be careful what you wish for…”

 

“I want to know.” Haldir leaned in closer and to his surprise one of the branches moved away to allow him closer to Thranduil. “You are a riddle to me.”

 

Thranduil sighed deeply. “I loved Remmen with all my heart and soul, and when he died…” He paused, relieving unpleasant memories. “I never told Legolas in so many words, but… I did follow Remmen to the Halls of Waiting. It happened after several weeks of grieving. I had lost the willpower and strength to stay on Arda and I…I ended my life in order to travel to the Halls of Mandos. The Vala was not amused to put it lightly.”

 

Haldir listened breathlessly, honored that Thranduil was confiding in him.

 

“Mandos told me that my time hadn’t come yet and that I was a fool to come there voluntarily. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to Remmen, who remained hidden from me. Mandos then sent me back. It is only because of Legolas that I survived. It was unfair to burden him like that, but… There was so little left of me! My duties were assigned to my advisors as I was unable to carry them out. Legolas reached out to me and his love brought me back from the brink. I slowly recovered.”

 

“I am beginning to understand.”

 

Thranduil looked at Haldir from beneath luscious eyelashes. “I was like a newborn in many ways back then and somehow I never regained the strength I had before losing Remmen. Legolas knows that. It is the main reason why he is so protective of me. It is why my men go to him for advice when something is afoot and don’t come to me. I am a mere shadow of my former self.”

 

Haldir’s eyes swam with tears, realizing Thranduil’s pain. “You are still grieving for Remmen.”

 

”I don’t think I will ever stop.” Thranduil pushed closer to the trunk and the tree reacted at once, wrapping tiny branches around him in a protective hug. “He was the love of my life; my light in the dark nights. Without him, I am lost.”

 

“How long has it been since he died?”

 

“It has been millennia.”

 

“That is a long time to mourn.” It wasn’t surprising that the grief was still taking its toll on Thranduil. “Is there anything I can do to lessen your pain?” He was quickly adapting the same protective attitude Legolas had toward Thranduil.

 

“I would ask of you to hold me, but that would be highly inappropriate as you are my son’s husband.”

 

“Inappropriate? Who cares about that?” Haldir moved closer and established a tight hold on Thranduil. “I hope you realize you didn’t lose Legolas to me… You gained another son instead.”

 

“Thank you for that.” Thranduil rested his head against Haldir’s shoulder and enjoyed having someone close, holding him. “I just wish I wasn’t alone any more.” He managed to hold back the tears that had been building in his eyes, not wanting to appear even more fragile to Haldir. “I just wish I had someone to share my life with.”

 

At exactly that moment a falling star passed by over their heads, and Haldir couldn’t help but chuckle softly, reciting a verse Galadriel had taught him when he had been an Elfling. “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires, will come to you. If your heart is in a dream, no request is too extreme. When you wish upon a star, as dreamers do. Fate is kind, she brings to those who love, the sweet fulfillment of their secret longing. Like a bolt out of the blue, fate steps in and sees you through. When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.”

 

Thranduil rubbed his head against Haldir’s shoulder, lured into a sense of serenity by the other’s calming voice. “That would be nice, but I doubt my wish will ever come true.”

 

“One can hope,” said Haldir, confidently. “No one knows what the future will bring. Maybe Námo had a particular reason to send you back. Maybe there is someone on Arda who is destined to be with you.”

 

“Holding on to that thought would be folly.” Thranduil’s eyes were slowly darkening with impending sleep. “Remmen died this very night two thousand and thirty years ago, Haldir.”

 

“That was the reason why you sought out Legolas tonight,” said Haldir compassionately. “Look!”

 

Thranduil lifted his weary eyes to the dark heavens and sighed blissfully, as a silvery waterfall of stars descended onto Middle Earth.

 

“With so many falling stars carrying your wish to the Valar, it must come true,” said Haldir, intent on offering Thranduil hope. “Don’t give up.” Acting on instinct, he pressed a chaste kiss on Thranduil’s hair. “Dream of stars, hope, and wishes.”

 

“It has been many nights since I last had a good night’s sleep,” admitted Thranduil in a weary voice, slowly slipping into a dream-filled sleep.

 

Haldir held Thranduil close, guarding the elder Elf throughout the night. /Your life was a tragic one, but the Valar gave you Legolas. I can only hope they will give you another love. Legolas is right; if someone deserves to find love it is you./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I am ready to leave, if you still wish to depart,” said Rúmil, who had managed to dress himself with great difficulty. His back still caused him agony at times, but he was determined to stay at Mithrandir’s side. He wouldn’t let him out of his sight; he was too afraid the Istar might vanish on him.

 

Mithrandir sighed. “Rúmil, you are in no condition to travel long distances. I will head for Imladris and the road is long and hard, even on horseback. The constant movement will cause you great pain.”

 

“I will endure it if it means being with you.” Rúmil swayed on his feet, released a soft yelp and crumpled in front of Mithrandir, who quickly reached out and caught him before he could fall. “I… can… manage,” insisted Rúmil through gritted teeth.

 

“You will do this no matter how grave the pain,” realized Mithrandir, who eased Rúmil down onto a chair. Rúmil’s determined expression told him that he wouldn’t succeed in brushing off or even denying the mutual attraction between them. He had fought that attraction vigorously, knowing he would endanger Rúmil during his missions and he simply couldn’t risk the Elf’s life again.

 

“Yes, I will.” Rúmil’s breath came in pauses, as he tried to control the pain. “I made my decision when you brought me back.”

 

Mithrandir pulled up another chair and sat beside Rúmil. “Are you certain it isn’t just my appearance you are in love with?”

 

Rúmil grinned. “You look like a grumpy old man… And I am still in love with you.” Seeing Mithrandir blush gave him new hope. “Olórin, I just regret I didn’t realize the attraction for what it was before I died,” he said, swallowing hard. “It was only in the hour of my death that I realized the truth. Before my death, I felt a very strong pull toward you – a deep sense of trust.” Rúmil raised his right hand and placed its palm against Mithrandir’s wrinkled face. “The wrapping matters little when the heart is pure and filled with love.”

 

Mithrandir sighed deeply. “Are you certain?” Being honest with himself, he had to admit he desired Rúmil in turn, but was hesitant to take the initiative. “Do you realize the dangers involved when you travel with me?” He leaned into the caress when Rúmil’s fingertips gently explored the texture of his face.

 

“I do, but I also know the extent of your powers.” Rúmil rubbed his thumb against Mithrandir’s cheek. “Will you give me the chance to prove myself? Let me show you that I can hold my own during your travels. And will you allow me to express the love I hold for you? Or will you run away?”

 

“I doubt I can still run away, even if I wanted to, because you would surely follow me.” Mithrandir finally accepted the truth and rubbed his face against Rúmil’s fingers. “It has been so long since I last had a lover and I fear for your safety, Rúmil. The beings I deal with can easily destroy you.”

 

“I will put my trust in you to keep me safe,” said Rúmil firmly, “And I can defend myself.”

 

“Against the Nazgûl? Against Sauron himself?” 

 

“If need be,” said Rúmil determinedly. “Are we agreed then? Will we travel together and will you give me a chance to win your heart?”

 

“You already have my heart,” confessed Mithrandir in an emotional tone, “I just fear for your safety.”

 

“You fear too much.” Rúmil slowly leaned in closer, rested his other hand at the nape of Mithrandir’s neck and then brushed the Istar’s lips with his.

 

The kiss was sweet and still innocent, but somehow Mithrandir doubted Rúmil’s ministrations would remain chaste much longer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elrond, look at what the guards gave me!” Lindir – breathless after running through the long corridors of the Last Homely House – eventually tumbled into the Peredhel’s study, waving a small piece of paper in front of him. “Look!”

 

“Calm down, Lindir.” Elrond instantly rose from his desk, dismissed his advisors and unfolded the piece of paper Lindir had pushed into his hands. What had caused the state Lindir was in? Scanning the writing, his eyes widened. “They are coming home…” His sons were coming home and so where Erestor and Glorfindel. One of the sentries stationed at the far outskirts of his realm had written the message, which had been attached to an arrow, and sentries had passed it through until it had reached him. “They are coming home!” He was actually shaky from excitement! Elrond grabbed hold of Lindir, lifted him, and then crushed him to his chest. “They are coming home!”

 

“I gathered that much,” said Lindir teasingly. Looking into his lover’s twinkling eyes, he realized that an enormous burden had been lifted from Elrond’s shoulders. “You will hold your sons in your arms again shortly. The sentries reckon it will take them one more day to reach us.”

 

“One more day… Only one day to prepare for their homecoming!” Elrond released Lindir and began to pace the study. “We would welcome them home properly. Maybe—“

 

Lindir, having seen Elrond in this stressed mood before, hugged the half-Elf tightly and waited for his lover to make eye contact. “All you need to do is to make sure you are in the courtyard when they arrive. Nothing else matters to them.”

 

Calming down, Elrond smiled gratefully at his lover. “Thank you for reminding me of that.” He had already been planning a big welcome, but Lindir was right; he just needed to be there to welcome them into his arms again. “And Erestor is returning home as well.” He was greatly relieved that Glorfindel had managed to reclaim his most trusted advisor.

 

“Uh, you do realize we are left with a dilemma now?”

 

Puzzled, Elrond looked at Lindir. “In what way?”

 

“Will Erestor move back into Glorfindel’s rooms or keep his own?”

 

“We will prepare both suites, that way he can choose. I am not going to assume anything where those two are concerned.” Elrond cradled Lindir’s hand in his and led his lover to the couch, where they sat down. “Is there more?” Lindir looked as if he was about to burst with some secret information.

 

“Another message gave the names of the ones who are on their way to Imladris. Magolion’s was among them and he was reported seen holding Elrohir’s hand.”

 

Elrond nodded, and deep lines appeared on his brow. “Elrohir told me about his feelings for Magolion and I told him to act slowly. Maybe he threw caution to the wind.” Who knew what they had been through freeing Erestor. Maybe his son had needed Magolion’s comfort.

 

“And Orophin rides beside Elladan.” Lindir smiled happily. “It seems they finally admitted their love to one another.”

 

Elrond pretended to be upset, sighing dramatically, whilst in reality he was delighted to hear this particular news. “Aiya, that means I haven’t gained just one son in law, but two!”

 

Lindir leaned in closer and wrapped his arms around his lover. “You are happy for them.”

 

“I am not so sure I am happy to have gained Magolion for a son in law, but I will trust in Elrohir’s judgment.” Elrond’s gray eyes met Lindir’s calm gaze. “And we will have to properly inform them that we are married now. It might come as a shock to them.”

 

“I think Elrohir already suspected we were in love when he left, but Elladan is a different matter.” Lindir fought down his rising nervousness. “Do you think they will be displeased? After all, Celebrían…”

 

“Don’t say it,” mumbled Elrond, rubbing the small of his lover’s back. “You never tried taking her place and they know it. You are my mate, not a substitute. They will accept that.”

 

Lindir managed a smile. “I hope you are right.”


	6. Chapter 6

Part 33

 

Glorfindel couldn’t stop looking at Erestor. Dressed in Mirkwood’s greens and browns, his advisor looked like a different person. The glow in Erestor’s dark eyes also marked the changes within him. Glorfindel couldn’t help but worry that he didn’t truly know who this Elf riding beside him was. Was this Erestor still *his* Erestor? /He has changed, and so have I. We aren’t the same people we were when we left Imladris./ That thought thrilled and worried him at the same time. They couldn’t simply go back to where they had left off. /I must woo him again./ And that thought strangely excited him. /Seduce him, court him, woo him. Make him mine again, but in a different way. I won’t take him for granted ever again. I will truly win his heart and do all the things I should have done but never did./

 

“Glorfindel?” Erestor gave the blond a puzzled look. He was refraining from reading Glorfindel’s mind, but seeing the dazzled expression in the azure eyes he was tempted to do so anyway. Something about that smoldering look alerted him. What was going on in the Elda’s mind? And why did he have the feeling Glorfindel was thinking of him? “Is anything amiss?”

 

“Oh, no, everything is right.” Glorfindel leaned in closer, claimed Erestor’s hand in his and pressed a chivalrous kiss onto the knuckles. “Everything is just perfect. Like you are – perfect.” He almost laughed at the way Erestor’s dark eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, and controlled himself just in time. “Yes, perfect indeed.”

 

Erestor’s eyes continued to widen; Glorfindel was making him blush! /He never said such things before!/ But then again, Glorfindel maintained he had changed. Was this a new side to the Elda? He didn’t really know how to deal with receiving such a compliment and he squirmed in the saddle when the blond’s lips touched the skin of his hand again, this time pressing a light kiss onto the palm.

 

Erestor’s timid reaction briefly confused Glorfindel. He had paid Erestor attention and compliments in the past, hadn’t he? Then grim realization set in. He hadn’t… Hadn’t given Erestor any compliments these last few centuries. He had been too busy chasing him away. Careful not to confuse Erestor any more than he already had, he gently released the other Elf’s hand and wasn’t surprised to see the dark-haired Elf snatch it away from him. /Time, we need time./ Holding onto the thought, he remained close to Erestor during their journey to Imladris.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable over here?” Glorfindel had unrolled his bed roll next to the small fire they had built and expectantly looked at Erestor, hoping his lover would allow this peace offering.

 

Erestor suspiciously studied Glorfindel. “And why would I do that?”

 

Glorfindel’s heart missed a beat, realizing that although they had made love, they had not done away with old pain. “Because then I can hold you close.” He gave his lover a pleading look. “Please give me this chance.”

 

Erestor reluctantly gave in, not realizing Elladan and Orophin were giving each other pleased looks when he allowed Glorfindel to lie down behind him and hold him close. It felt distinctly odd to have Glorfindel act this protectively of him. How many nights had he cried himself to sleep whilst the Elda had ignored him? Now that the joy at their reunion was fading, old pain and resentment were sneaking back up on him.

 

Having a fairly good idea what was troubling Erestor, Glorfindel whispered into his lover’s ear, “I cannot change the past. I can merely attempt to make amends and to not repeat my mistakes. That will take time, love.”

 

Erestor bit his bottom lip, knowing he had to be honest in turn if he wanted them to work this time. “I felt hurt and… There is still a lot of anger inside me.”

 

“I can sense your anger,” admitted Glorfindel. “You are tense in my arms -- not relaxing at all. And I know that I am to blame for that, but… Please give me a chance to prove to you that I have changed.”

 

Erestor forced himself to relax and pushed back against Glorfindel’s body. He tried hard not to dwell on the past and live in the present instead. “I do love it when you hold me like this. During so many nights…” He left his sentence unfinished, realizing he was about to open another old wound. “Just hold me close.”

 

Glorfindel immediately tightened his hold on his lover, kissed a strand of raven hair and sang softly, hoping to soothe his distressed mate.

 

Opposite them, Elladan and Orophin had settled down, leaning against each other and looking at them. Elladan felt relieved, seeing Erestor accept Glorfindel’s closeness once more. “You know, those two are meant to be together.” However, he whispered in order to make sure the other couple couldn’t hear him, as he didn’t want to infringe on the little privacy they had.

 

“I am not that convinced,” admitted Orophin in an equally soft tone. “I saw the pain Erestor was in when he arrived in Lothlórien. I don’t want him to go through such anguish again.”

 

“Glorfindel has changed, trust me,” said Elladan, pulling Orophin tighter. “We will keep a close eye on them though.” He pressed a kiss onto the silver hair and wished they were in Imladris already – in the confines of his rooms, where he could finally make this relationship official. He wanted to make love with Orophin. He didn’t think his father would stop him from committing to Orophin, but he would feel more secure if his lover and he were already bound.

 

Orophin felt the same way. His body burned with desire for the Peredhel, but they couldn’t stray too far from the group, as danger still lurked on the way to Imladris. Their hearts ached in unison, craving nothing more than a true, intimate union.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I can see them!” Elrond’s nervousness was increasing now that the six Elves were entering the courtyard. “I can actually see them!” He was grateful for Lindir’s presence at his side, and hidden beneath the folds of his robes, he was holding the white-haired Elf’s hand. “Thank Elbereth for returning them safely to me!”

 

Unable to remain motionless any longer, he let go of Lindir’s hand and stepped forward to welcome Erestor home first. He had decided on that course out of tactical reasons. If he greeted his sons first, he would also have to welcome Magolion and he instinctively knew that would not sit well with Erestor. “Ah, my dearest friend! I am so relieved you returned to us! I greatly worried about you!” He studied Erestor and was momentarily taken aback by the changes in the eyes and features. Erestor had survived his ordeal at Sauron’s hands and had emerged stronger from it.

 

Erestor dismounted and Glorfindel immediately took his place at his side. It would take Erestor time to grow used to his lover’s new attitude toward him. “Elrond, it is good to see you again. There was a time when I was afraid I never would lay eyes on you or Imladris again.”

 

Elrond carefully hugged Erestor and then pulled back. “We will talk in depth after you rest.” He was curious to learn more about the time Erestor had spent in Sauron’s keep, but knew it had to wait. “Lindir, why don’t you walk Erestor to his rooms?”

 

Lindir had already stepped forward and was smiling brilliantly. “But of course. It will be my pleasure to do so.” The look that passed between them said more than words, and the old friendship and trust instantly sprang into place again.

 

“Please allow me to escort my beloved. I have missed his presence for so long that I don’t wish to part from him yet.” Glorfindel had quickly moved toward Elrond and Lindir, giving them a pleading look. The mere fact that Erestor would head for his own rooms made his heart ache with pain, but he also knew it was too soon to suggest living together.

 

Elrond arched an eyebrow in surprise. “If Erestor agrees I see no reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to escort him.” Beside him, Lindir stirred restlessly and he understood his lover only too well, but they couldn’t stand in Glorfindel’s way when the Elda wanted to make amends to Erestor.

 

Erestor nodded, dazed by the fact that Glorfindel was paying him such attention. Ever since being reunited in Sauron’s keep, the blond had been acting decisively odd.

 

In front of everyone, Glorfindel claimed Erestor’s hand, kissed the top and then cradled the limb against his chest. “Follow me, love.”

 

Elrond had the decency to wait until after Erestor and Glorfindel had left before bursting out in chuckles. “Oh, I do like the new and improved Glorfindel.”

 

Lindir agreed. “I don’t think Erestor has any idea how to react to him.”

 

“This might be fun,” decided Elrond, who smiled brilliantly at Elladan and Orophin. The two Elves now stood in front of him and the fact that Elladan bowed his head in respect worried and puzzled Elrond at the same time. “What did you do this time?” Elladan was infamous for getting himself into trouble.

 

“I brought my future husband home with me,” said Elladan softly, hoping Elrond would understand. “I ventured into Dol Guldur for him and faced losing him when he was Sauron’s prisoner. I don’t want to be apart from him ever again. Please give us your blessing.” He was rambling and he knew it, giving Elrond a pleading look. “Please?”

 

Elrond’s heart filled with love for his son, hearing the conviction in Elladan’s voice. “Of course I will. I hope Orophin and you will be happy. You made a good choice, my son. Orophin is a brave and noble Elf.”

 

Elladan opened his arms and caught his father in them. “Thank you,” he whispered into Elrond’s ear. “Thank you for allowing me to make my own choices.”

 

“How can I do otherwise,” mused Elrond. He had learned the hard way that everyone was entitled to their own choices. Elros had taught him that bitter lesson.

 

Orophin took a step forward and bowed deeply before the Lord of Imladris. “I will always be your most faithful servant.”

 

Elrond realized Orophin’s insecurity that instant and let go of Elladan to place his hands on the sentry’s shoulders. “I would prefer for you to be a good son instead.” Orophin’s eyes misted over at those words and Elrond gently squeezed the other’s shoulders. “You have my blessing, my son.”

 

Elladan grabbed Orophin’s hand and pulled him toward him. After seeing Elrond nod his approval, they disappeared into the house, as Elladan was eager to have his Galadhel completely to himself.

 

Elrond straightened his shoulders and took hold of Lindir’s hand again, now that Elrohir and Magolion approached. He was grateful they had waited until the others had gone into the house to approach him. “Elrohir, my son… Magolion.”

 

Elrohir’s gaze was determined, facing his father and Lindir. He had long suspected the two of them had become lovers, but it was the first time he saw them express that love by openly holding hands. He reckoned that if he accepted Lindir in his father’s life, Elrond would do the same for him where Magolion was concerned. “May I present my husband to you, Ada?”

 

Elrond felt Lindir tense beside him and held his lover’s hand tight, trying to offer support. “Are you certain this is wise?” Elrohir was an excellent judge of character, but they couldn’t simply ignore the fact of Magolion’s past misdeeds.

 

“Yes, I am. I knew it when he pushed Erestor out of harm’s way, facing death himself. He has changed.” Elrohir maintained eye contact, never averting his eyes under his father’s stern gaze. “I made my choice.”

 

Lindir nervously shuffled his feet. He was terribly afraid Elrohir had made the worst mistake of his life, but like everyone else, the younger half-Elf was entitled to choose his mate.

 

Magolion had remained silent on purpose, curious to see their reactions to Elrohir’s news. The fact that they had become lovers couldn’t come as a surprise to Elrond and Lindir. “I understand your reservations,” he said eventually, addressing the two other Elves. “And if I were in your shoes I would probably feel the same.”

 

Elrond inclined his head, curious as to what else Magolion had to say.

 

“I will convince you of my worth in time, *if* you give me a fair chance.” Magolion waited patiently, sensing Elrohir was growing increasingly nervous next to him.

 

Before Elrond had a chance to reply, Lindir spoke in a soft voice. “Elrond, I have found happiness with you, and my heart finds it easier to forgive now that I have your love. Maybe we should give him his chance.”

 

Magolion had listened to Lindir’s plea with mounting surprise. Lindir was the last one he had expected to support him. Looking at the white-haired minstrel he was overcome by a stabbing pain, filled with regret. Lindir was loyal, supportive, and honest, and would have been a good mate, if only he hadn’t been playing games at the time. He now wondered what could have been if he had truly fallen in love with the caring Elf.

 

Elrond considered his lover’s words. “You are very compassionate to plead his case, and you have convinced me to give him his chance.” Turning to Magolion, he said, “Don’t let Elrohir and Lindir down, for they believe in you.”

 

Lindir involuntarily sucked in his breath when Magolion took a step toward him and then loosely embraced him. In spite of his brave words a moment earlier, he now fought the urge to move away from his former nemesis.

 

“I regret hurting you in the past, Lindir, and I hope you have found your true love here in Imladris. You might not see me as a friend right now, but you will always have my support and sword arm if you ever need it.” Magolion could tell by the tension in Lindir’s body that it took a lot out of the other Elf to stay in place and he felt grateful for the fragile trust he was given. Carefully he released Lindir from the hug and returned to Elrohir’s side. His lover’s beaming smile made him feel light-headed.

 

“You have my blessing too, Elrohir,” said Elrond eventually, hoping Magolion had truly changed. Only time would tell.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel could tell that Erestor felt uncomfortable as the dark-haired Elf had taken to walking two steps behind him. He knew he was being studied and evaluated. Once they had reached Erestor’s rooms, he stepped aside and let his lover enter. Glorfindel remained in the corridor, refraining from entering without explicit invitation.

 

Finding that the Elda had stopped walking, Erestor questioningly turned to face him. The courage and strength he had experienced when fighting Sauron and during the time he had stayed with Glorfindel in Mirkwood were quickly dwindling and he found himself slipping back into past behavior, thinking of how he could please Glorfindel best. This worried him and made him apprehensive when it came down to dealing with the Elda.

 

Glorfindel sensed a weak echo of Erestor’s worried thoughts through their connection and said, “Would you have dinner with me this evening?” He yearned to be alone with his lover!

 

“I don’t think that would be appropriate. I am certain Elrond expects us to join him in the Hall of Fire tonight.” Erestor felt slightly relieved, realizing he wouldn’t be alone with Glorfindel tonight. Being back in his rooms brought back sad memories of how he had been forced to move back into them. Their problems hadn’t miraculously vanished overnight.

 

“You are right,” admitted Glorfindel, not thrilled by the prospect of having to share Erestor with Elrond. “Would you allow me to walk you to the Hall of Fire when it is time for dinner?”

 

A wary expression appeared in Erestor’s eyes. “Why?”

 

Glorfindel’s heart twitched. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

 

“I don’t understand…” whispered Erestor, confused at Glorfindel’s eager attitude toward him.

 

Glorfindel impulsively reached out and took Erestor’s hands in his. They trembled fiercely and he rubbed the icy skin. “I have an idea, Erestor. Will you allow me to tell you?” Erestor nodded shakily, and Glorfindel continued, suddenly certain he was about to make the only right suggestion. “Let me court you. I want to romance you, like I never did before. Let me conquer your heart, Erestor.”

 

Erestor frowned. “I cannot forget the past and pretend we weren’t… lovers.” Glorfindel’s former attitude toward him had hurt him too much.

 

“I am not asking you to forget,” clarified Glorfindel, “I am asking you to give us a chance to build a new relationship.” He lifted misty eyes at Erestor. “Do you still love me?”

 

“You know I do,” said Erestor without hesitation.

 

Glorfindel smiled warmly. “Then let’s pretend we are new to the game of courtship and let me be the one to seduce you. Let me properly woo you.” Surprise and disbelief shone from Erestor’s eyes, and the realization that he never properly courted the dark-haired Elf saddened him. “I should have done so a thousand years ago.” Erestor had been eager back then to be with him and Glorfindel hadn’t felt the need to court Erestor elaborately. “I do think it would give us a chance to get to know each all over again. We have both changed, love.”

 

Glorfindel had made a valid point; even Erestor agreed they needed to get reacquainted. When they had made love after escaping Sauron’s clutches they had needed the closeness and reassurance that they still loved each other. “Your idea is sound,” he whispered softly.

 

“I am relieved you agree,” said Glorfindel, rubbing the palm of Erestor’s hand with his finger tips. “And to be honest, I am actually looking forward to wooing you.” He had the feeling Erestor would be blushing constantly these next few weeks. “I terribly neglected you in the past.” Almost bouncing on his feet, he was overwhelmed by ideas to win Erestor’s heart. “Oh, I want to show you how much I love you!”

 

Glorfindel’s apparent enthusiasm made Erestor wonder what the blond had in mind. “You don’t need to woo me. You already have my love.”

 

“But I want your heart as well.” Glorfindel mischievously leaned in closer, touched his lips to Erestor’s, folded one arm around the Elf’s waist and literally swept him off his feet. Holding Erestor tightly against him, he deepened the kiss, hoping to utterly overwhelm his beloved with this display of his affection. Putting Erestor back onto his feet, he noticed the stunned expression in the dark eyes. His own eyes had also darkened to deep blue and he hoped they expressed every ounce of the love which he felt for his advisor. “I will come to your rooms before dinner to escort you to the Hall of Fire.” Releasing a dumbfounded Erestor, he giggled softly and then walked down the corridor, alternating between humming and whistling softly.

 

Raising his right hand, Erestor let his fingertips slide over his lips. Glorfindel had seldom kissed him that passionately and had never before actually swept him off his feet. A hopeful smile surfaced on his features as he closed the door behind him. Maybe the concept of Glorfindel wooing him wasn’t that bad after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The knock on his door came early and Erestor had only managed to bathe and slip into his robes. His still damp hair was a wild mess and he desperately needed to comb it. Rushing toward the door, he opened it and was still surprised to see Glorfindel standing there. The blond had told him he would escort him to the Hall of Fire, but Erestor hadn’t expected him to be *this* early. “What are you doing here? It is still one hour until dinner.”

 

“I missed you and became inpatient.” Glorfindel gallantry bowed, claimed Erestor’s hand and pressed a kiss on its back. “You look lovely, but your hair is in disarray.”

 

“That’s because you are so early,” said Erestor, blushing. Glorfindel had obviously made an effort to look his best. The blond had dressed in formal, blue robes, which Erestor knew were not his favorite garments. So Glorfindel was dressing up for him? Realizing the Elda was still standing in the corridor, Erestor took a step back, reclaiming his hand, and shyly said, “Would you like to step inside?”

 

“I hoped you would ask.” Glorfindel immediately entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Maybe I can even be of some assistance? I could braid your hair.” He gave Erestor a hopeful look and noticed that the dark-haired Elf’s face was decisively flushed.

 

Erestor had no idea how to react to such a charming Balrog Slayer. Over the last thousand years he had grown used to being ignored, and now Glorfindel had mounted this ‘charm’ offensive. What was he to do? To say? To act? As Glorfindel’s hopeful expression made it hard for him to say no, he nodded his head and headed for the dresser.

 

Glorfindel followed at once. “Please sit down, love.” He reached for the comb and after Erestor had seated himself, he stared at his beloved’s reflection in the mirror. Running the comb gently through the raven mane, he began to undo the tangles. “How do you wish to wear your hair tonight?” Erestor wore it loose most of the time, but maybe he would prefer it braided tonight. He had to ask.

 

“This is… odd…” mumbled Erestor, flabbergasted. “You never acted like this before.”

 

“I was a fool,” said Glorfindel firmly. “And this is only the beginning of wooing you. Now pray tell, do you wish to have your hair braided?”

 

Erestor nodded once and the movement caused Glorfindel’s fingers to slide through the still damp mane. “Just one loose plait.”

 

Delighted to be able to do this for Erestor, Glorfindel eagerly complied. The silence felt strangely uncomfortable, and the way Erestor was studying him slightly unnerved him. He was being tested right now and would face far more serious tests before Erestor would finally trust him again. Glorfindel was determined to pass every test Erestor would ever give him. “Elladan and Orophin already excused themselves from dinner. Elrond was not amused.”

 

“I can understand though,” said Erestor thoughtfully. “They are very much in love and… They haven’t had the chance yet to properly express those feelings.”

 

“The house is full again,” said Glorfindel, determined to keep the conversation going, even if it was about the twins. There had been too many silences when they had still been together. “Elrond might not openly show it, but he is happy that his sons have found mates.”

 

“I just wish Mithrandir could have come with us,” admitted Erestor, who had begun to quiver slightly under Glorfindel’s gentle ministrations. The touch of the golden-haired Elf did wake his desire, but he held back, realizing they had to become friends again before they could be committed lovers. And they *had* time. He could relax and just let this happen.

 

“How do you feel about Mithrandir being your father?” Glorfindel’s eyes briefly widened, realizing he had seldom asked about Erestor’s feelings before. Never, in the past. The question also surprised Erestor, who gave him a dazed, yet approving look.

 

“I am happy that I finally know my sire and Mithrandir… How can anyone not like him?”

 

“And what about your powers? You seem to be controlling them.”

 

“I am repressing them,” said Erestor reluctantly. He wasn’t sure he should be discussing this with Glorfindel. “I do need more training, but only Mithrandir can guide me in this matter.”

 

Glorfindel had finished the braid and placed the comb back onto the dresser. Moving in front of Erestor, he leaned against the dresser, studying the advisor. “You are part Istar, how do you feel about that?”

 

Erestor frowned. “Why are you asking me how I feel?”

 

“It is something Elrond once suggested,” admitted Glorfindel, growing flushed. “He said I should try to get more in touch with your feelings.”

 

“Elrond is wise then,” said Erestor, finally smiling at the blond. “I do welcome this change in you, Glorfindel.”

 

Glorfindel smiled radiantly. “In that case you will hopefully accept an invitation to walk in the gardens with me before dinner. It is a lovely night and the stars shine like mithril.”

 

“I never knew you possessed a poetic streak.” Erestor rose from his seat and gingerly caressed Glorfindel’s face. “Yes, I will join you for a walk in the gardens, my love.” At hearing that endearment, Glorfindel’s face shone with love and the blond leaned in closer, hugging him. It was during that moment that Erestor realized they would sort out their problems eventually; their love would guide them.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 34

 

 

Elrond and Lindir looked out over the gardens, enjoying the warm and friendly night from the balcony of the half-Elf’s rooms. They were about to leave for the Hall of Fire, when they made out the forms of their friends.

 

“They are growing close,” whispered Lindir, pleased.

 

“Truly close,” agreed Elrond. “It is different between them this time.”

 

“Glorfindel has changed.”

 

“So has Erestor.” Elrond, standing behind Lindir, rested his chin on his lover’s shoulder. “I hope they will succeed in building a relationship as close as ours. I wouldn’t know what to do without you, my heart.” He had never been so close to someone, not Celebrían, not Gil-galad. What he had with Lindir was truly unique.

 

“We should leave, lest we be late for dinner,” said Lindir, resting his head against Elrond’s. “And I love you too.”

 

A smug grin appeared on Elrond’s face and he kissed the tip of Lindir’s ear. “Ah, what gave me away?” Looking into Lindir’s twinkling eyes, he pulled his lover along. “I am hungry.”

 

“The guest of honor hasn’t arrived yet,” said Lindir, pointing out Erestor’s form to Elrond.

 

“Then we will wait for him in the Hall of Fire whilst nibbling on some appetizers.”

 

“I can nibble on something else, if my Lord wishes for it.” Lindir teasingly rubbed his lower body against his lover’s groin.

 

“Later, my sweet, later. First, I need to play host.” He wished he could make love to Lindir right now, but duty called. Elrond vowed to make things up to his mate later.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan groaned blissfully when Orophin found release against him. After taking their leave from Elrond, they had hurried to the half-Elf’s rooms, where they had barely refrained from ripping the clothes from each other’s bodies. The need to finally experience complete intimacy had overwhelmed them and they had literally devoured each other.

 

Elladan no longer exactly recalled where he had found the oil to ease his way in, and he had barely prepared Orophin, but his silver-haired lover hadn’t seemed to mind the slight discomfort.

 

Sitting cross-legged with Orophin in his lap, Elladan had thrust gently, burying himself in his lover’s body. Orophin had wrapped his arms and legs around him in an effort to be as close as possible to him. Elladan had placed his hands beneath his lover’s buttocks, assisting Orophin when the sentry raised himself so he could impale himself again. It hadn’t taken them long to find release, and when Orophin trembled in his arms, Elladan took his lover’s lips in a possessive kiss.

 

Elladan reached his climax as well, his hands now buried in his lover’s mithril mane. Wide-eyed, they stared at each other, realizing they had finally completed the bond. They were married now – life partners.

 

Elladan felt Orophin sag against him, and he brought his arms up behind his lover’s back. Gently, he lowered Orophin onto his back, carefully pulling out now that their desire had been sated. “Finally,” he whispered, warmly, “I almost thought we would never have a moment alone.”

 

Orophin grinned. “I do think your father knows extremely well why we excused ourselves from dinner.” He reached for one of the shirts they had earlier disposed off and cleaned them up. Once there was no more danger of getting stuck together, he drew Elladan close against him. “I never thought I would ever taste your love. I was convinced I wasn’t worthy of one such as you.” Seeing Elladan raise an eyebrow, he added, “You are Elrond’s heir and I was convinced you would never settle for a sentry -- a *male* Elf.”

 

“I told you before that I have no need of heirs as Elrohir and I will succeed our father.” Elrond had hinted once that they wouldn’t remain in Imladris and would leave for Valinor within the next millennia. “I would never have given you up. I just needed time and encouragement to make my love known.” He grinned wickedly. “I have Sauron to thank for that. Who knew he would play matchmaker!”

 

Orophin sighed, relieved that they had spoken about this so openly. Lying in Elladan’s bed, holding the half-Elf in his arms, he felt truly complete.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond was doing his utmost best not to chuckle, seeing Erestor blush almost constantly. It was obvious that his advisor didn’t really know how to act around a very courteous Glorfindel. /I cannot really blame him. He needs time to adjust./ But he assumed the change Glorfindel had gone through would eventually please Erestor and Elrond stopped worrying about the matter. Instead, he leaned toward Lindir, saying, “Glorfindel seems very much in love.”

 

Lindir nodded. “And Erestor has no idea how to react to him.” It was endearing in a way, to see Erestor this dumbfounded and shy. “Will you continue to talk to Glorfindel?”

 

“I hope so. And maybe even to Magolion as well.” His gaze shifted from Erestor to Magolion, who was sitting next to Elrohir at the end of the table. Erestor’s expression had frozen when he had realized his half-brother had joined them at the main table. He had to talk to Erestor as well. Maybe he could make Erestor see that Magolion deserved a chance to prove himself. Lindir’s hand found his beneath the table and he smiled at the white-haired Elf. “Don’t you think it is about time we announced ourselves to my household? Our relationship has stopped being a secret some time ago.”

 

“Shouldn’t you tell Elladan first?” Lindir blushed, seeing Elrohir grin at him, pointing beneath the table and thus revealing he knew they were holding hands. “You can skip Elrohir. He knows already.”

 

Elrond’s questioning gaze found Elrohir’s. Elrohir nodded once, showing his approval and the elder Peredhel sighed, relieved. “I will tell Elladan tomorrow and we will announce our relationship to my household tomorrow evening. I am done with this secrecy.” He pleadingly looked at Lindir. “I don’t want to hide my love for you.” So far it had been at Lindir’s request that he had refrained from making their love public.

 

Lindir nodded; Elrond was right. Elrond’s ring was at his finger, and probably everyone in the Hall knew they were lovers. “You may do so.”

 

“Thank you,” whispered Elrond, happily. After squeezing Lindir’s hand he turned to his other side, where Erestor was seated. Now that Glorfindel was discussing the latest schedule for the border controls with his second in command, Elrond saw his chance to talk to his friend and advisor. “How do you fare, Erestor? You look well enough.”

 

Erestor briefly averted his eyes. “I have much to tell you.” He still had to confide in Elrond about this heritage, but didn’t want to do so in this crowded hall. He would wait until they were in the privacy of the Peredhel’s study.

 

Elrond understood and would patiently wait for Erestor to come to him. “And how do matters stand between you and Glorfindel?”

 

“I am not certain,” mumbled Erestor, leaning closer to whisper into Elrond’s ear as he didn’t want Glorfindel to hear. “I don’t know what to do. The way he acts around me…”

 

Elrond nodded briefly. “He has changed a lot, Erestor. He has searched his soul and came out of this stronger. But don’t concentrate on him too much. You made that mistake before. Focus on yourself.”

 

“I learned to do that when Sauron had me.” Erestor shivered. “I came out of that ordeal stronger as well.” His gaze traveled from Elrond to Glorfindel. “I don’t know how to act around him. He said he wanted to woo me – and seduce me. He is acting most oddly.”

 

“Because he is caring and attentive? Because he wants to spend time with you? Isn’t that what you wanted all along?” Elrond was amused, seeing Erestor’s blush deepen. “Do you still love him?” After Erestor had nodded his head, he asked, “Do you want to be with him?” Another nod followed. “Then enjoy the attention and let him woo you. I cannot think of anything more romantic than Glorfindel trying to win your heart all over again.”

 

Erestor sighed. “I just don’t know how to react to him. I have grown used to a quiet and distant Glorfindel.”

 

Elrond placed a hand on Erestor’s arm and rubbed the skin beneath his friend’s dark robes. “Then find out how to react to him. Let him show you.”

 

Looking past Elrond, Erestor saw Lindir nod in approval. “You warned me not to take Glorfindel as my lover that first time. Have you changed your mind?”

 

“I have.” Lindir smiled at his best friend. “I witnessed his struggle after you left and I am certain he won’t make the same mistake again. Let him woo you, my friend.” Lindir wavered momentarily, and then added, “I know you still feel suspicious of Magolion, but I think he has changed as well. I doubt Elrohir would love him otherwise. Look into your heart, Erestor. I know you suffered much at your brother’s hands, but I also know your compassionate nature. You are given two chances; take them!”

 

“You always speak from the heart, my friend,” said Erestor, seeing Glorfindel had finished his conversation with his second in command. The blond was now shifting on the chair, moving closer toward him. “I will take your advice to heart.”

 

“Advice? What advice?” Glorfindel frowned, looking inquisitively at Lindir. He hoped Lindir hadn’t advised Erestor to distance himself. He had thought Lindir knew how much he loved his advisor!

 

“Be at ease,” said Erestor, resting a hand on Glorfindel’s wrist. “All is well. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

 

Glorfindel nodded his head once and then placed his hand atop of Erestor’s, rubbing the other’s fingers. The smile on Erestor’s face at this small gesture warmed his heart and he did feel reassured. Maybe Lindir had advised Erestor to give him a chance after all. He certainly hoped so. He needed help in order to win back Erestor’s love.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel walked Erestor back to his rooms, and when they arrived there, he nervously shuffled his feet, unwilling to part from the dark-haired Elf yet. “Thank you for this evening,” he said, awkwardly, “I enjoyed having you close again in a more relaxed setting.” He was making an effort to label and express his feelings, and he hoped he wasn’t disappointing Erestor. It was bad enough he had to return to his own quarters in a few moments!

 

“I enjoyed your company too,” said Erestor, suddenly feeling as giddy and nervous as when he had with his first love. “Things were different tonight.”

 

Glorfindel nodded firmly. “I will never again mistreat you like I did in the past!”

 

Erestor’s gaze softened and a warm smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Come here…” Slowly, he drew Glorfindel close, folded an arm around the Elda’s waist and rested a hand at the nape of the golden-haired Elf’s neck. Then he leaned in closer and claimed Glorfindel’s lips softly. The other Elf’s lips and teeth parted and his tongue sought out its counterpart, engaging it in a passionate duel. Glorfindel reacted against him, and he could feel him harden. The fact that Glorfindel still wanted him, flattered him, and he hoped that their relationship would continue to develop and improve. When they finally ended the kiss, he said, “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

 

Glorfindel was tempted to ask if he could keep Erestor company throughout the night, but realized he had to take this slow. “Will I see you tomorrow? I have to train with the guards in the morning, but I am available in the afternoon and evening. I would love to spend that time with you.” He brushed back a wayward raven strand and smiled at seeing Erestor blush. “We could walk in the gardens, go horse-back riding, or maybe you can read to me?” Erestor’s gentle smile told him his offer would be accepted and he waited confidently for his answer.

 

“Walking the gardens sounds lovely,” said Erestor, pleased.

 

“And maybe after dinner we can return to the gardens and watch the midnight sky? I know how much you love to look at the stars and I thought that maybe I could hold you whilst you do so.”

 

Erestor was deeply touched. In the past Glorfindel had disliked spending time with him in such a ‘romantic’ way. What was it Glorfindel had said? Staring at the stars was a waste of time. That the blond would suggest it now made him feel cherished, and he rewarded the Elda with another kiss.

 

When Erestor released him, Glorfindel reluctantly stepped away from the dark-haired Elf. “I hope you will have pleasant dreams tonight.”

 

Erestor’s smile was positively radiant now. “Hopefully you will be in them.”

 

Now Glorfindel blushed as well. Why did he feel like a virgin all of a sudden, courting his first lover? “I know you will be in mine.”

 

They parted with sweet sorrow in their hearts and when Erestor closed the door to his rooms behind him, he leaned against it, sighing happily. He thanked the Valar for the changes Glorfindel had gone through, for he was finally seeing the real Elda instead of the one who used to keep him at a distance. Humming softly, he walked over to the bed, undressing and dropping his garments in the process onto the floor. Naked, he slipped between the sheets. /How odd, I must really be in love for it seems even my bed linens carry Glorfindel’s scent./ Comforted by that scent, he quickly slipped into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of his personal Balrog Slayer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For Glorfindel sleep didn’t come that easily. Back in his quarters, he missed Erestor’s presence badly and his lover’s absence nearly caused him to hurt physically. Fully dressed, he sank onto his bed, sitting upright with his back resting against the headboard. He would count the nights until Erestor comfortably rested in his arms again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elladan? Can I talk to you?” Elrond had seen Orophin leave a moment ago, and hoped to find his son alone and in a good mood. He pulled Lindir inside behind him, ignoring the white-haired Elf’s futile attempts to retreat back into the corridor. “We are in this together!”

 

Lindir sighed; he couldn’t deny that he’d had a part in becoming a couple, so it was only fair to stand at Elrond’s side when he told Elladan. But he was *not* looking forward to this.

 

“Ada?” Elladan appeared in the doorway. He had been taking a bath, and his hair was still dripping wet. A large towel covered the most essential parts, for which he definitely felt grateful at unexpectedly finding his father and Lindir in his bedroom. “Is something amiss?” His father’s face held an unreadable expression and he grew worried. “What happened this time?”

 

Elrond moistened his lips and cleared his throat. “Lindir and I need to tell you something.” Lindir tensed beside him and the next moment his lover pinched his arm in a berating manner. He had thought about how to tell Elladan, and had decided he preferred the direct way.

 

“And what might that be?” Elladan sat down on the bed and used another towel to dry his hair. Whilst studying the two Elves, he realized how close they stood and that Lindir’s hand rested on his father’s arms. Elrond’s hand in turn disappeared behind Lindir’s back, doubtlessly resting on the small of the minstrel’s back. /Ah, that is the way it is./

 

“We have to tell you something,” began Elrond again. Up until a moment ago he had perfectly known how to announce them to his son, but now he had forgotten the words! He was more nervous than he had thought! “Lindir and I… We…” Helplessly he looked toward Lindir for help. Lindir was biting his bottom lip, which Elrond thought adorable, but it was making it even more difficult for him to concentrate.

 

“Your father and I discovered we loved each other,” said Lindir in a nervous voice, finally taking pity on his lover. Looking Elladan directly in the eyes, he added, “I have loved him since we met in Lindon, but I never approached him.” Elladan raised an eyebrow, and by doing that, the younger half-Elf reminded him of Elrond. Only the Peredhil were able to pull off ‘the eyebrow’, and he shivered nervously. “It was Erestor who… manipulated me into revealing my feelings for your father shortly before the two of you left for the Golden Wood.”

 

“And I return his feelings. We are happy, Elladan. I haven’t felt this alive since… since Celebrían left. You do know that I… that I…”

 

“I know you loved her, Ada,” said Elladan, rising from the bed. He walked over to them and came to a halt in front of his father. “Does Elrohir know?”

 

“Oh, yes, it is safe to say he knows,” replied Elrond, recalling Elrohir’s gentle teasing when he had pointed at them when holding hands beneath the table.

 

“And does he approve?” Elladan studied his father’s eyes, quickly realizing Elrond’s love for Lindir was true. And when he looked into Lindir’s eyes he saw a similar love displayed in them. He would give them his blessing if that was what Elrond needed.

 

“I think he does.” Elrond had curled his fingers around Lindir’s and now moved their joined hands into Elladan’s view. “Please don’t think I no longer love your mother. She will always be in my heart, but—“

 

“I understand, Ada,” said Elladan, realizing that the call of true love had to be obeyed. It was the very reason why he had gone after Orophin. “I understand.”

 

Elrond sighed, relieved, and nodded gratefully. His sons understood; that was all that mattered to him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel had worked with the guards all morning. Magolion had accompanied Elrohir and had asked to be allowed to become part of Imladris’ defensive forces. Knowing that Elrohir would be away on patrol for longer periods of time, Glorfindel had agreed, unwilling to separate them when knowing they wanted to be together. It was becoming easier for him to be around Magolion and although they weren’t friends yet, they weren’t enemies either. The fact that Magolion had saved Erestor’s life had convinced Glorfindel to truly give the other Elf an honest chance.

 

His sharp Elven sight allowed him to locate the balcony of Elrond’s study, and he wondered what the half-Elf, Lindir and his beloved were discussing. Where they discussing him?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I still feel a bit… awkward around Glorfindel.” Erestor wasn’t even sure if awkward was the right word. “Everything is different!”

 

Elrond watched Erestor pace, and smiled warmly at Lindir. “Erestor, what is it that makes you uncomfortable and nervous?”

 

“He never acted like this before!” exclaimed Erestor, spinning around to face his friends. “When we were together, he ignored me most of the time. Now it seems he can’t bear being separated from me. It is hard to reconcile those two images.”

 

Lindir released Elrond’s hand, and walked over to Erestor. After resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, he smiled reassuringly and said, “Glorfindel is right, you know.” Seeing Erestor’s puzzled expression, he explained, “You should look upon this as a new courtship – a new chance. Don’t let the past influence the present this heavily. Glorfindel worked hard on himself and I believe he can help you too. Let him help you discover who you are. You are a romantic, Erestor, you always were, and you hoped this would happen one day. But now that it is happening, you think that it is too good to be true. But Glorfindel has changed and I don’t believe it is only temporary. Let him woo you.”

 

A sigh left Erestor’s lips and he bowed his head, letting his dark hair fall in front of his face. “But he has no reason to do this! He knows I love him!”

 

“And how does he know that?” asked Lindir, amused to see Erestor fight this. Erestor stood no chance now that Glorfindel was determined to win his heart.

 

“We made love in Mirkwood,” whispered Erestor, quickly glancing at Lindir’s face to see his reaction before looking away again.

 

A warm chuckle left Elrond’s lips. “Oh, Erestor, you would do best to let Glorfindel guide you in this!”

 

Erestor shrugged his shoulders once. “I will try.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond and Lindir had waited for Glorfindel and Erestor to return from their stroll in the gardens to announce their love to the Elves present in the Hall of Fire. Elladan and Elrohir had nodded their head to reveal their approval, when Elrond told all present that Lindir and he were bound. Quickly, the first congratulations reached the couple, and Elrond now sat down, content to cradle Lindir’s hand in his. The Valar had given him another chance at love.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Erestor? Walk this way with me.” Glorfindel had ‘abducted’ Erestor from the feast that was being held in the Hall of Fire to celebrate Elrond’s and Lindir’s marriage and now steered his beloved toward a corner of a neglected garden. Elrond had plans to redesign this section and Glorfindel had asked to be allowed to do so instead. Elrond had gladly given him permission.

 

Erestor felt enraptured by all the attention Glorfindel was giving him, and had eased into the blond’s arms, which were wrapped around his waist. Leaning against Glorfindel, he fell into step with the golden-haired Elf, wondering how it was possible that he felt so completely at ease when he had been edgy and nervous this afternoon. “Where are we going?”

 

“I want to show you something.” Glorfindel guided Erestor into the garden, and heard his beloved’s gasp. “I know it is a pathetic sight.” Due to a thunderstorm some nights ago the grounds had been flooded; the flowers and plants hadn’t survived and Glorfindel had begun to remove them. Moistening his lips, Glorfindel plunged into the deep. “To me, this is what our relationship was like when I so foolishly let you go. We are now trying to rebuild our relationship and I would love for this garden to grow with us. We can plant flowers, sow seeds and watch it grow, whilst our love deepens as well.” Glorfindel held his breath, as he wasn’t sure how Erestor would react to this suggestion. Was he overdoing the romantic part?

 

Erestor’s eyes became misted and hooded, telling Glorfindel he had done everything just right. Soft lips claimed his in an unexpected kiss and he yielded at once, letting Erestor deepen their kiss. Looking into the calm dark eyes, he knew he had just won his beloved’s heart.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel looked at Erestor’s face, which was completely relaxed in peaceful slumber. After discussing their ideas for their garden, they had settled down beneath an old ash tree. Glorfindel sat with his back against the trunk of the tree, whilst Erestor was lying on the grass, the dark head resting on his lap. His fingers combed through the long, raven hair, occasionally twining a strand around a finger. They had kissed for a long time under the starlit sky and when Erestor had fallen asleep, he realized he had also regained Erestor’s trust.

 

But he also knew it was just a start. He would have to prove his love for his advisor over and over again, but he felt up for the challenges and tests Erestor would aim at him. He would never let Erestor down again.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 35

 

 

“Erestor, come quickly!” Elladan and Orophin ran into the advisor’s study, grabbing hold of Erestor’s arms and pulling the stunned Elf with them. “We have visitors!”

 

Erestor watched them, bemused, and wondering who had triggered this response in them. “Calm down, and tell me who—“ He swallowed the words when he found himself face to face with his father. “Mithrandir?”

 

Mithrandir smiled kindly, opened his arms and tightly embraced his son. It had taken Rúmil and him two weeks to journey from Mirkwood to Imladris, and he had looked forward to this moment for fourteen days. He was finally holding his son in his arms again. “You look well!” And it was the truth. Erestor’s pallor had vanished and a healthy blush had appeared instead. A warm, rosy glow shone from his son’s fëa, telling him Erestor was in love, and was being loved in return.

 

Erestor was still shaking his head, trying to really accept that his father was standing in front of him. Mithrandir had told him they would meet again shortly, but he hadn’t thought he would see his father this quickly! His next glance was for Rúmil, who stood beside Mithrandir. The Galadhel’s face displayed a smug grin, and it was an extraordinary sight to see the sentry in Mirkwood’s colors instead of Lothlórien’s.

 

Orophin didn’t waste any time now that he was being reunited with his younger brother and hugged Rúmil tightly. When he had first learned that Mithrandir and Rúmil were approaching he had been ecstatic, but now he was wondering why his brother was traveling with the Istar, instead of heading for the Golden Wood. Leading Rúmil away from Erestor and Mithrandir, he questioningly searched his brother’s eyes. Something was different. Something had changed. What was it?

 

“You are in love!” Orophin had at last recognized the insane gleam in Rúmil’s eyes. It was the same expression Elladan’s gaze adopted when looking at him in times of great passion. “Who is it?” He took a step back to better study his brother. “Do I know her… or him?” His brother had never had a real preference, enjoying the company of both sexes.

 

“You do,” said Rúmil smugly, not surprised that Orophin had so quickly guessed his little secret. “It is Olorín – better known to you as Mithrandir. But I see him with different eyes.”

 

Orophin gasped in surprise. “Mithrandir, but… He is old!”

 

Rúmil actually laughed, hearing that remark. “Yes, his disguise is extraordinarily deceiving, but let me assure you he is truly breathtaking in his real form.”

 

“Rúmil, did an Orc arrow poison you? You are acting most odd.” Orophin looked at Mithrandir, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Erestor. “Mithrandir?” He just didn’t understand why Rúmil would choose to be with the Istar. But – as he loved his brother – he was willing to try and understand.

 

“It happened when he saved my life, Orophin. He gave me some of his own life essence and when I was dying I saw his real form. He is more handsome than any Elf I ever laid my eyes on… and his eyes… The sky could never achieve such a perfect blue.” Sighing, Rúmil’s gaze searched and found Mithrandir’s from across the study. “He didn’t want me to act on my feelings at first, but I convinced him.”

 

Orophin grinned. He had learned of Rúmil’s ways to make someone comply firsthand. “I don’t understand why you would choose him, but if you are happy…”

 

“Oh, I am, but I would be even happier if he would let me have my way with him.” Exasperated, he added, “So far he only let me kiss him!” Pouting, Rúmil glared at Mithrandir. “I don’t know why he is this hesitant.” Well, he did know, he just didn’t see things Mithrandir’s way.

 

“He is an Istar, Rúmil. I can imagine he wouldn’t easily get involved with a lover, especially someone like you.” Oh, he knew exactly how to get Rúmil riled up. And yes, it worked like a charm – as it did every time. Rúmil’s glare now shifted to him and Orophin laughed warmly. “Oh, come on! You know I am only teasing you!”

 

“Why did you say that? Do you think I am not good enough for him? Do you?” Rúmil looked at Orophin indignantly. “Do you think he deserves better?”

 

“Oh, peace, pen-neth!”

 

“Don’t call me that! I am only a decade younger than you!” Orophin knew he didn’t like being called that! And that was exactly why his brother was doing it. In order to get even with his wicked brother, he punched Orophin’s side– not too hard, but hard enough to make sure Orophin wouldn’t push his buttons again.

 

“I will behave,” promised Orophin, groaning. He *had* felt that punch!

 

“Good,” said Rúmil, obviously pleased. Now that he had dealt with that nuisance of a brother of his, he returned to dreamily staring at Mithrandir. Sometimes – though he couldn’t predict when – he would catch a glimpse of Olorín. Whenever those ethereally blue eyes fastened on him, he fell in love all over again. /Maybe I will just have to jump his bones./

 

Mithrandir’s eyes suddenly widened and his gaze met Rúmil’s. Rúmil grinned cheekily and gave him a wink, which clearly stated his intent. To his amusement, Mithrandir quickly looked away. /Yes, I will just jump his bones!/

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond had already been notified of Mithrandir’s arrival and now joined them in Erestor’s study. When his friend had finally told him who his sire was, Elrond had been stunned beyond speech, and it had taken him an hour to formulate his questions, which Erestor had answered to the best of his ability.

 

“Mithrandir, my good friend. Let me welcome you to Imladris – again!” Elrond grasped the Istar’s shoulders and hugged him. “You honor my home with your presence.” They had become best friends over the years and he always enjoyed Mithrandir’s presence. “You are probably most eager to spend time with your son, so I won’t take up too much of your time. But I would enjoy having dinner with you one of these evenings.”

 

“I am sure we can manage,” replied Erestor, looping his arm through Mithrandir’s.

 

Elrond smiled in understanding, and then took his leave, giving them some privacy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor had volunteered to walk his father to his guest rooms, whilst Orophin enjoyed spending more time with Rúmil. “I didn’t expect to see you this quickly again! I thought it would be years, maybe even decades before we would meet again!”

 

Mithrandir dotingly looked at his son. “Erestor, do you really think it wise for me to unleash your powers and then be amiss in teaching you how to use them? You do need to learn the extent of your powers and how to control them. Repressing them won’t work forever.”

 

“Repressing is my only way of controlling them right now – You are correct in that, but… I am not sure I want to explore these powers in depth. What if I hurt someone?”

 

“That is why I am here, Erestor. I will teach you.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

That evening found everyone seated in the Hall of Fire. Enchanting music filled the Hall, whilst a warm fire burning in the fire place added to the lovely sense of contentment all present clearly felt. Lindir had taken his seat at Elrond’s side, which had become his rightful place since they had announced their relationship.

 

To Elrond’s left sat Elladan, with Orophin beside him. Next to Orophin sat Elrohir and Magolion. All Elves were giving their respective partners meaningful glances. It was obvious to all present that they were very much in love.

 

Mithrandir had found a place next to Lindir, with Erestor seated on his other side. Glorfindel had found Rúmil sitting next to him, and didn’t mind one bit about the seating arrangement, as long as he sat next to his beloved Erestor. However, the Elda *had* noticed the looks Rúmil was giving Mithrandir, and simply couldn’t believe the conclusion he had just reached. No, he simply couldn’t believe Rúmil was attracted to Mithrandir!

 

Rúmil, whose smile seemed literally plastered to his face, gave Glorfindel a smile. “Does anything trouble you?”

 

“I was wondering about the way you are looking at old Mithrandir there.”

 

“It doesn’t differ much from the way you look at Erestor.” Two could play this game!

 

Glorfindel’s eyes widened slightly. “Mithrandir… and you?” Now that was a surprise!

 

Rúmil winked at Glorfindel. “Well, we share the same good taste, don’t we?”

 

Glorfindel nearly spit out the fine wine he had been drinking and stared at Rúmil in wonder. When had the Galadhel become this cheeky? They had visited the Golden Wood when Elrond’s children had been Elflings and Rúmil had always made a calm impression on him – one could even call him timid. “I hardly recognize you.”

 

“Well, death does change a person.” Only after he had spoken those words, he realized how thoughtless and disrespectful they had been. “I am sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t want to bring up unpleasant memories.”

 

In the past, Glorfindel would have clammed up, and forced a smile onto his face, but he was more comfortable now when it came down to talking about his past – and his death. “Your comments didn’t offend me.” A gentle smile appeared on his face. “I cannot really blame you. And you do have an excellent taste.”

 

Rúmil relaxed marginally and continued to stare hungrily at Mithrandir – nearly devouring him. He hoped his plans for tonight would work out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mithrandir knew there was trouble afoot when Rúmil excused himself early and left for the guest quarters they were sharing. All evening long Rúmil had been giving him a hungry, almost predatory look, and the expression had alerted him. So far he had been able to maintain some distance between them, as he just wasn’t sure why Rúmil professed he loved him. Was it for who he was, or for how he looked like in his true form?

 

“Something wicked will come your way,” announced Glorfindel teasingly, when the Istar also retired after dinner.

 

Mithrandir swallowed hard, pretended not to have heard the Elda’s comment and after wishing Erestor a good night, he left the Hall of Fire to face Rúmil.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir’s hand trembled when he pushed down the door handle, wondering what awaited him on the other side. When he finally stepped inside, a single look at the bed was enough to make him quickly close the door behind him. “Rú…” The name remained stuck in his throat, as his eyes took in this delightful vision.

 

Rúmil was sprawled on the bed. A sheet covered his private parts, but the silken material could easily be blown away by the slightest breeze to reveal Rúmil in his naked glory. Suddenly it was hot in the room, and Mithrandir wondered what he was supposed to do.

 

Rúmil grinned impishly at him and uncovered the single long-stem rose that had been hidden beneath the sheet. Dragging it up his chest, he kissed the soft rose petals when they reached his lips. “You are wearing too many clothes.” Yes, it was corny, but it also served the purpose of undoing the sudden tension between them.

 

Mithrandir chuckled softly. “Are you trying to seduce me?” He had finally regained some of his wits.

 

“Trying?” Rúmil’s tone was indignant and he gracefully rose from the bed, the sheet slipping onto the floor. Naked, he advanced on Mithrandir, who tried backing up, but the Istar’s back made contact with the wall and he was stopped in his flight. “I am aiming for success here.”

 

Mithrandir’s mouth felt awfully dry all of a sudden and his groin tightened in response to the sight of this naked Elf in front of him. Rúmil was slightly shorter than he was, but right now he felt awfully small himself.

 

“I do hope I am not intimidating you.” Rúmil frowned briefly. “Explain this to me, Olorín. I know you aren’t a virgin so why are you reacting like one?”

 

“It has been a long time since I lay with Erestor’s mother, Rúmil. And I have never been with a male before. I am not experienced in the ways of lovemaking.” At first, he had wanted to say something else, but the words remained stuck in this throat. He didn’t feel all that wise and powerful all of a sudden.

 

“And now, the truth, please.” Rúmil cocked his head, moved even closer and pressed his body against Mithrandir’s, enjoying the feel of the slightly coarse fabric against his skin.

 

Mithrandir found it hard to think logically now that Rúmil was this close. It was true; he had been without a lover for ages, and his body and mind ached for the intimacy shared between lovers. “Whom do you love? Olorín, the vision? Or me?”

 

Rúmil frowned, confused. “Why make that distinction? You are Olorín, *and* you *are* Mithrandir. I love every aspect of you. It doesn’t matter to me in which form you reveal yourself to me.” He truly didn’t see Mithrandir’s problem. “I love *you*.” Leaning in closer, he acted boldly by wrapping his arms around the Istar’s waist and pulling him closer. Rúmil claimed Mithrandir’s lips and quickly deepened the kiss when the other allowed it. “You worry too much.”

 

“Yes, I am in the habit of doing that,” admitted Mithrandir, breathlessly, when Rúmil began to rub his lower body against him.

 

“Let me attend to you. Whilst I bathed, you talked to Erestor and you haven’t had any time yet to clean up. I filled the pool for you and added some sandalwood oil. That should soothe your skin.”

 

Before Mithrandir had realized what was happening, Rúmil had managed to remove his cloak. The silver-haired Elf was now undoing his robes and they dropped onto the floor with a soft whooshing sound. “What are you doing to me?”

 

“Seducing you… Hopefully.” Rúmil’s deft fingers removed the remaining boots, socks and underwear. He chuckled softly now that Mithrandir stood naked before him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he teased lightly, running a fingertip down his lover’s hardening flesh.

 

Mithrandir gasped for breath; being touched this intimately felt exquisite after such a long time of celibacy. “Rúmil, are you certain of this?”

 

“I am. I always have been. And I think you are certain too, but you are afraid to admit it.” Taking the lead, he guided Mithrandir into the pool, sitting down first and then pulling his lover down as well. The Istar was now seated in front of him, and Rúmil lazily ran his fingers through the tangled mass of gray hair. “Relax,” he whispered into Mithrandir’s ear. He took hold of the soap, created lather and began to wash his lover’s hair.

 

Mithrandir’s nervousness was slowly lessening, now that he didn’t have to face Rúmil, and the movement of the Elf’s fingers combing through his hair worked soothingly on him. Soon, he began to relax, and his tense muscles loosened.

 

After rinsing the long, gray hair, Rúmil pulled his lover close against him. He momentarily rested his chin on Mithrandir’s shoulder and then showered the other’s throat with butterfly kiss.

 

The gentle kisses made Mithrandir chuckle softly and he looked over his shoulder at the wicked Elf, who was about to become his lover – his mate. “In what guise do you prefer me?”

 

“Whatever form you choose. The exterior matters little to me, though I must admit I have fallen in love with Olorín’s blue eyes.”

 

Mithrandir obliged him, and relished hearing Rúmil’s soft groan of approval at seeing his eye color shift.

 

“Perfect.” He had spoken the truth; the wrapping mattered little to him. It was its content he craved. “I still see you as Olorín at times,” he admitted in a voice, heavy with desire. “I cannot steer it, but sometimes your form changes into his.”

 

Rúmil’s voice was luring him further into relaxation and he allowed his lover to move away from behind him. Rúmil moved until he was straddling his hips, the Elf’s long legs wrapping themselves tightly around his waist.

 

“I want you…” moaned Rúmil, “I really want you. Please, allow me…”

 

“What? What is it you want? Tell me,” he whispered hoarsely into Rúmil’s ear, “What do you want?”

 

“I want you to take me…” Rúmil’s hooded eyes – dark with desire – met Mithrandir’s. “Let me do this…”

 

Mithrandir was somewhat surprised when Rúmil suddenly slipped off of him and left the pool. Tiny, shiny droplets of water clung to the smooth flesh and Mithrandir found himself following most eagerly. He took Rúmil’s hand – which was tiny compared to his – in his and rubbed the damp skin.

 

Rúmil led his lover to the bed, and then turned around. Raising his hands, he placed them on Mithrandir’s bare chest, and then slowly pushed him down onto the bed.

 

Mithrandir laid down willingly, enchanted at seeing Rúmil lower himself onto the bed on all fours. The silver-haired Elf that now crawled back onto his lap was purring and the soft sound made him even harder with desire.

 

Rúmil straddled his lover’s hips, put his hands down on the bed on either side of Mithrandir’s head, and looked into Olorín’s eyes. “I love you.”

 

“I finally realize that you do,” mumbled Mithrandir in a tone raw with desire. “Will you stay with me then? Face all the dangers and abominations that I must face?”

 

“Oh yes,” whispered Rúmil, letting his hair fall in front of his face so the ends could caress his lover’s chest. “I will stand by your side, fight for you, and defend you.”

 

Mithrandir was incredibly relieved that Rúmil hadn’t said he would die for him. He didn’t want that. “And I promise to love you.”

 

“That’s all I ever wanted.” Rúmil bowed down and let the tip of his tongue circle a coppery disk, teasing the nipple into hardness. When he looked at his lover again, he was panting from excitement. The blue eyes reminded him of whom he was truly making love with and he smiled sorrowfully. “I won’t last long, Olorín. There is so much tension inside me and I need to let go.”

 

Mithrandir nodded in understanding. “There will be other times when we can make love for nights.”

 

“Or days…”

 

“Or days,” agreed Mithrandir. His gaze followed Rúmil’s hand when his lover reached for the phial filled with oil. A moment later, he was squirming beneath Rúmil as the silver-haired Elf was rubbing the oil onto his hard flesh.

 

The wicked smile reappeared on Rúmil’s sweet face when he raised himself, positioning himself for the impalement that would follow. Placing his hands on Mithrandir’s chest, never breaking eye contact, he lowered himself onto the slick flesh.

 

A mutual groan echoed through the room when they finally connected. Rúmil pushed down until his buttocks rested against his lover’s flesh and he wriggled experimentally, drawing more urgent moans from the Istar. He held his breath when the first thrust came. Although the thrust was shallow and cautious, it nearly launched him off of the other’s body as that pleasurable nub inside him was perfectly stimulated. “Oh!”

 

Mithrandir thrust again, resting his large hands on Rúmil’s hips, urging his lover to move on his own. It didn’t take long for Rúmil to catch on, and soon he was riding his lover hard and fast.

 

Rúmil reached his peak much too soon, but was unable to hold his climax back. Letting go, he came hard, the evidence of his release splashing onto his lover’s stomach. Knowing that the contractive movements of his inner muscle would quickly send the Istar over the edge, Rúmil leaned in closer, studying the sky-lucid eyes – and then everything changed. The form beneath him changed and he was once more looking at Olorín, the Maia of his heart.

 

Olorín – still in the throes of passion – stared lovingly at this silver-haired Elf who had upended his life. Before they had fallen in love, his mission had seemed so straight-forward. Now he had found a lover again after life times of solitude. A lover, who would never leave his side. A skilled and determined warrior. What a rare gift… One, which he would cherish as long as they lived.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Arien had begun her ascent a few minutes ago, and her warm beams had woken Elrond, who was in his warm bed with Lindir safely tucked against him. From where he was lying on the bed, he had a splendid view of Imladris and he watched as Arien’s first sun beams woke the inhabitants of his home, causing a pleasant activity. Imladris had only twice before breathed this sense of peace and serenity, and that had been when his children had been born. Now it had happened again, and he knew why a sense of true contentment sweetly filled the air.

 

Love had returned to Imladris in late autumn. It wouldn’t be long before the first snow would fall, but today’s temperature would rise and give them one more, lovely, warm day.

 

His sons had found happiness with their mates and Erestor was slowly letting Glorfindel in again. Just before he had retired after dinner last night, Glorfindel had hinted that Rumil was determined to ‘jump Mithrandir’s bones’ as the blond had phrased and he wondered if the Galadhel had truly gone ahead with that plan.

 

Yes, love was in the air, sweet and light. And *his* love was in his arms, and that was exactly where Lindir belonged. Stroking the long, white hair, he marveled at the other Elf who possessed his unconditional love and trust.

 

Pressing a chaste kiss on the white strands, he thanked the Valar for allowing them such peace and love. Lindir’s eyes filled with awareness and his lover smiled at him. Their lips touched and claimed each other in a passionate kiss, reconfirming their love all over again.

 

Yes, life was good in Imladris and Elrond was so enraptured by his bliss that he never wondered about life in Mirkwood or if its ruler was content too. Thranduil was the last person on his mind when he leaned in closer to make love to Lindir.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil walked the long corridors of his underground prison alone. Legolas had returned from the borders and he understood that his son and Haldir wanted some privacy after having been separated, but he still felt lonely. Using a secret door, he left the caves and stood in the open forest. Reaching Remmen’s tomb only took him a few minutes, and when he stood before his lover’s memorial he burst out into tears. Loneliness was slowly killing him and he was dying inside. Would he eventually fade due to his grief after all? Well, Legolas no longer needed him now that his son had Haldir. Maybe it was best to accept his fate and join Remmen in the Halls of Waiting.

 

“It won’t be long, beloved. It won’t be long until I join you.” Kneeling in front of the tomb, he rested his brow against the cold, marble stone. /Námo, I am ready to leave this life. When will you call for me?/

 

But no call came forth and Thranduil sobbed softly, wishing he were no longer alone.


	9. Helm's Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas takes a drastic decision after nearly losing Haldir.

Interlude; Helm’s Deep

 

Legolas’ heart momentarily stopped beating, seeing his beloved go down onto his knees after having received a cutting blow to his side. “No!” Abandoning the Elven archers he had joined, and ignoring Gimli’s calls of distress at finding him leaving the safety of the group, Legolas determinedly ran toward his husband. He took out every Uruk-Hai that dared to block the path to his lover – keeping the count of his fallen victims no longer mattered to him. Nothing mattered, except reaching Haldir in time. Haldir wouldn’t die in Helm’s Deep!

 

Haldir heard Legolas’ feral cry and looked up. His side hurt and dazed, he looked about, shocked at finding so many Uruk-Hai that close to him. Injured, he presented an easy target. Haldir tried to raise his sword again, but his arm and side felt heavy and he could do little other than wait for the inevitable blow that would end his life. His last thought was for Legolas – knowing how deeply his husband would mourn his passing.

 

One of the monsters appeared behind him, raised its sword and was ready to strike and cleave his back in two. But then an arrow struck the Uruk-Hai right between the eyes, and then another, and another. The Uruk-Hai’s features contorted and he fell backwards, eyes wide in disbelief.

 

Legolas had finally reached Haldir and now faced another problem. How could he possibly fight off their attackers and drag Haldir into the safety of the keep at the same time? Haldir appeared immobile and dazed, and wouldn’t be any help.

 

“Laddie, pull him into the keep. Move him!”

 

Legolas gave Gimli a blinding smile, grateful for having such a loyal friend. Gimli’s ax covered his back when he wrapped his arms around Haldir and literally dragged the injured Elf into the fortified rooms of the keep.

 

“Legolas!” Aragorn had witnessed the rescue and now checked on his friends. Grabbing hold of Haldir’s collar, he helped Legolas to take the wounded Elf into safety. They moved Haldir into the great Hall, where most of the injured had found a refuge. Aragorn wished he could stay and look after the courageous March Warden, but his men needed him!

 

“Go,” whispered Haldir, staring at Aragorn in a daze. “I am fine. I just need a moment to rest.” His side felt paralyzed, but it wasn’t a mortal injury and his healing ability would take care of it.

 

Aragon clasped Haldir’s shoulder, squeezed briefly, and then marched out of the hall to take his place at the head of his men again. Legolas remained a little longer, making sure his husband would survive.

 

Haldir forced a smile onto his face and looked Legolas in the eyes. “You saved my life, beloved.” If it hadn’t been for Legolas’ heroic act, that Uruk-Hai would have ended his life.

 

“You must be more careful in the future!” Legolas repressed the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. “Don’t you know that I cannot live without you?”

 

“I need you to live too,” admitted Haldir in a voice thick with emotion. “You have to return to the fight, Legolas. You cannot stay here. You are needed.”

 

Legolas nodded once. “But I would rather stay here.”

 

“You know you cannot. First, we need to defeat these evil forces. I will wait for you here.”

 

“Do you promise?”

 

“I won’t die on you without your knowledge,” promised Haldir, placing the palm of his hand against Legolas’ chest. “Go now.”

 

It was with a heavy heart that Legolas left his husband’s side, but Haldir was right. They needed everyone to drive back Saruman’s forces. “Just don’t die on me, Haldir. I wouldn’t survive.” He would fade, like Thranduil was still fading after losing Remmen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir brought the Rohirrim into battle and the joined forces finally defeated the Uruk-Hai. Some of the monsters fled, only to be devoured by the trees that had come to Helm’s Deep, others were hunted down and killed by the Rohirrim. But victory was theirs and whilst the Rohirrim, Elves and Man rejoiced, Legolas hurried back to the hall where he had left Haldir behind.

 

His gaze scanned the hall and he sighed, relieved to find Haldir had recovered enough to assist the more seriously injured warriors. Walking up to his silver-haired sentry, he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Haldir with him into a secluded corner. “We won and we are still alive. But I nearly lost you!”

 

Haldir was still a tad unsteady on his feet, and leaned slightly on his husband. “This battle for Helm’s Deep will always be remembered by Elves and Men.” Legolas suddenly averted his eyes, which alerted Haldir that the golden-haired Elf was struggling with some personal issues. “What is it, love?”

 

New determination was born in Legolas now that he had made his decision. “I want you to sire our child. Now… here.”

 

Haldir’s eyes widened dramatically. “We discussed this, my heart. We shouldn’t start a family in times of war.”

 

“You don’t understand!” Legolas gave Haldir a pleading look. “I almost lost you today! Had you died today, I wouldn’t have anything left of you! Please give me this! In that way I would still have you close, even if you died. Our child would keep your memory alive!”

 

“And what if you become injured in battle? Or die? Our child would die with you.” Haldir wasn’t comfortable with Legolas’ request. “Why don’t we wait until a time of peace has settled over the lands?” He believed Aragorn could lead them to victory and had put his trust in the Dúnadan a long time ago. “We should wait a little longer.”

 

“I don’t want to wait. I need to know you will never leave me!” Legolas’ eyes had darkened with need and determination. “Haldir, when you almost died today I faced losing you. If I had a child with you—“

 

Haldir cut him short. “I won’t die on you, Legolas.”

 

“You came entirely too close to dying!” Legolas sighed, distressed. “I cannot force you to lay with me in that way, but please…”

 

Haldir folded an arm around Legolas and pulled him close. Rubbing large, soothing circles on the golden-haired Elf’s back, he took his time to consider Legolas’ words. “But what if you suffer a miscarriage due to the stress of battle?”

 

“What if you die and leave me alone? Nothing is certain in life,” mumbled Legolas against Haldir’s chest. His lover pressed him close and he finally relaxed against him. “This is your decision eventually, but I beg you – give me this.”

 

Haldir knew he couldn’t deny Legolas. His beloved had the right to ask him this. And if he were in Legolas’ shoes, he might be making the same request – wanting to keep his lover’s memory alive in their child. “I will give you this.” Legolas freed himself of the embrace to look at Haldir with swimming eyes. “But we should find a more private place to make love.”

 

Legolas nodded firmly. “I know where we won’t be disturbed.” He grabbed Haldir’s wrist and began to pull him along, but then halted. “Are you strong enough to do this? Or do you wish to rest before—“

 

Haldir silenced him with a kiss. “I am up to making love to you, dear Legolas. Always.”

 

Pleased, Legolas continued to drag him out of the hall and toward the chamber they had been assigned upon their arrival in Helm’s Deep. Everyone was celebrating their victory and no one would notice them having their own little victory celebration.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“There is no need to fuss over my injury, Legolas. The cut is healing and the paralyses gone.” Haldir had taken great pleasure in undressing his beautiful lover and his gaze now greedily took in the golden-haired Elf’s form beneath him. Undressing had only taken him a few moments and they had quickly slipped between the sheets. From outside, cheers echoed through the air. Everyone was ecstatic they had won, but the seasoned warrior knew laments would shortly fill the sky when they realized the losses. For one moment he felt guilty for wanting to make love to Legolas in this dark hour, but he was certain that their light would briefly illuminate the obscure darkness.

 

Idly, he traced patterns on Legolas’ chest, teasing his lover’s nipples into hardness. “I wonder what you will look like when several moons pregnant,” said Haldir wickedly, licking the hardened nub of flesh whilst rolling the other nipple between his fingertips. “I am certain you will be lovely when swollen with our child.”

 

Legolas was torn between answering Haldir and focusing on the sensations coursing through his body. “Stop talking and make love to me.” By conceiving, he would achieve his own, personal victory over death. He wanted to create a new life tonight. Wantonly, he parted his legs and pulled Haldir into position between his thighs.

 

Haldir gave Legolas a warm smile – his fingertips still exploring and caressing Legolas’ body. Making love this time was different from all the other times when he had taken his beautiful Elf. “A new life…”

 

“Hopefully, yes,” whispered Legolas, who now reached for his lover. Once he had taken hold of Haldir’s hand, he placed it on his flat abdomen. “This is where our child will grow strong.”

 

Haldir leaned in closer and showered his lover’s abdomen with sweet kisses. Legolas’ organ hardened quickly under his caresses, and moving lower, he engulfed the hot flesh with his mouth. Legolas involuntarily arched his back, thrusting into his mouth, and Haldir allowed it. Reaching for the oil that would ease his way in, he rubbed some on his erection. He had never taken Legolas in this way and felt a bit awkward, when he positioned himself at the –what he suspected – virginal opening.

 

Legolas was panting softly by the time Haldir released his straining member, and he grabbed his lover’s waist, pulling him close, pulling him inside. “Now, please.” He wasn’t in the mood for elaborate foreplay – he just wanted to feel Haldir inside him, giving him what he needed most.

 

Haldir bit his bottom lip, easily sliding inside and sheathing himself. “It feels different.”

 

“It is different,” whispered Legolas, nearly breathlessly. “It is the first time I am allowing someone to make love to me in this way.”

 

“I am flattered,” said Haldir with a giant smirk. Remaining motionless, he savored the new sensation. He leaned in closer, and kissed Legolas passionately before performing his first thrust.

 

“Oh…” Legolas moaned in surprise, and instinctively raised his hips to thrust back. “Feels better… than I thought it would.”

 

“That’s because we are making a little one,” teased Haldir, gently thrusting again. He curled his fingers around Legolas’ right hand and guided his lover’s hand to his erection. “Stroke yourself for me.”

 

Unable to deny his lover this request, Legolas stroked his hard flesh lazily. They were in no rush to reach completion, simply savoring the act itself. He raised his long legs and wrapped them tightly around Haldir’s waist, making sure his lover remained buried inside him. “Deeper… Make sure I conceive.”

 

Haldir brushed damp strands of golden hair away from his beloved’s face and then kissed the closing eyelids with infinite tenderness. “As you wish,” he said, obliging Legolas and penetrating him deeply.

 

Legolas released a choked moan and flexed his hips again. “I love you for doing this for me, Haldir.”

 

“For us.” Haldir smiled, kissed Legolas’ lips, and then the tip of his tongue trailed down his lover’s throat, licking the salt of his partner’s skin. They had now established a gentle, but deep thrusting rhythm and Haldir could feel himself spiral toward orgasm. “I am sorry, my love, but I won’t last much longer.”

 

Wanting them to reach orgasm together, Legolas stroked himself harder. When their climax finally was upon them, the silver- haired Elf trembled in dual pleasure. His own cream dripped from the inflamed head of his erection, whilst Haldir’s seed nestled deep inside him. Unable to move, he simply stared into Haldir’s dilated pupils. They clung to each other, bestowing kisses on one another’s lips, privately sending prayers to the Valar.

 

“Do you think you conceived?” asked Haldir after several minutes had passed. His sated organ had long left his lover’s body and he now lay on his side, studying Legolas’ furrowed brow.

 

“We will know in a few weeks,” said Legolas eventually. “I have no experience in this matter and the only one who can advise me is in Mirkwood.” Maybe Thranduil knew how to determine if he had conceived or not.

 

“Promise me you will be careful in battle,” demanded Haldir in a firm tone. The sight of a naked, slightly sweat-covered Legolas was enough to make his heart flutter madly with love and renewed desire. To his surprise, he grew hard again.

 

Legolas noticed his lover’s renewed arousal and grinned wickedly. “I will do my best, beloved, but we can worry about that later. Maybe we should try again and make sure I conceived? I can see you are up for it again.”

 

Haldir purred in approval. “If you aren’t feeling sore, I would be happy to perform my marital duties again.”

 

“It is a good kind of sore,” whispered Legolas, pulling Haldir back on top of him. “It is the kind of soreness that will remind me of the fact we made love in order to create new life.”

 

Haldir easily buried himself to the hilt. This time, Legolas rested his legs on the bed instead of wrapping them around his waist and Haldir realized this act drained his lover more than he had originally thought. Supporting Legolas’ legs, he gently lifted them, and encouraged Legolas to pull them toward his chest. “You look even lovelier this way – open and vulnerable.”

 

Legolas obliged Haldir, and stared lazily at his silver-haired lover who moved confidently inside him. This lovemaking had to result in new life – it had to!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Several weeks later…

 

“Haldir? Love?” Legolas quickly scanned his surroundings, and was reassured when he found their traveling companions still sound asleep. “Wake up!” They had made camp only a few miles away from Minas Tirith and tomorrow another battle awaited them. But that could wait. First he had to tell Haldir something very important.

 

“Yes, love, I am awake.” Haldir’s eyes filled with awareness and he instantly pulled Legolas closer, even atop of him. “Why did you wake me?” He had grown extremely protective and possessive of Legolas during these last few weeks – ever since that day that they had made love in Helm’s Deep. His feelings for Legolas were still deepening – even though he had thought that impossible. Looking at his beloved now, he realized that Legolas had never looked lovelier before. The blue eyes shone with a silver fire and the normally so pallid skin had attained a rosy hue.

 

“We are going to have a baby in ten moons,” whispered Legolas softly into Haldir’s ear, as he didn’t want anyone else to find out yet. “I am with child.”

 

“How do you know for certain?” Haldir’s eyes shone with hope and love when Legolas guided his hand beneath the fabric of his lover’s clothes. His palm rested against the once flat abdomen, feeling a slight distention. Speechless, he stared into Legolas’ radiant eyes.

 

“You are going to be an Ada shortly. Just as you wanted.” Legolas claimed Haldir’s lips in a loving kiss.

 

Haldir finally regained his wits. “You must be careful from this moment on. Don’t fight tomorrow.”

 

“We already discussed this,” said Legolas, reminding Haldir of their previous discussions. “But I will be as careful as I possibly can.”

 

Haldir buried Legolas in a warm hug, rocking his lover gently on top of him. “You have made me the happiest Elf alive.”

 

Legolas smiled brilliantly at him. “I hope you will still feel like that when my hormones act up.”

 

“Oh, the joys of pregnancy,” said Haldir, teasingly. “I will face them with you.” Holding Legolas tight, he thanked the Valar for granting them this child.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You are *what*?” Aragon shook his head, still trying to understand and accept what Legolas had just told him. During the last battle he had wondered about Haldir, who constantly hovered near Legolas and who had tried to convince him to forbid Legolas to take part in the upcoming fight. Now Haldir’s plea made sense.

 

The enemy had finally been defeated and Aragorn would shortly be crowned King of the reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, and the last thing he had had expected to hear was that his long-time friend was pregnant with Haldir’s child. “You cannot be pregnant!”

 

“I assure you it is so.” Legolas took hold of Aragorn’s hand and after seeing Haldir nod, placed his friend’s hand against his abdomen.

 

Aragorn’s eyes widened in shock. “But…”

 

“All males in my family are capable of conceiving and eventually giving birth,” explained Legolas, who smiled, feeling Aragorn gently rub his fingers against the distended skin. “Haldir and I will become parents in ten moons.”

 

Aragorn was torn between being cross with Legolas and being happy for his friend. “You fought at my side knowing you were endangering your child?”

 

“Haldir and I discussed this. He was also worried that I might be injured, but he allowed me to do so. It is my body and I make my own decisions.” Legolas patiently waited for Aragorn’s reaction. “I would like to stay in Minas Tirith until the baby is born.”

 

“Of course you are welcome to stay,” stammered Aragorn, still finding it hard to believe what his fingertips were telling him. “But you still acted recklessly.”

 

Legolas nodded once. “But the war is over and we should look toward the future, not the past.” Haldir came to stand beside him and a strong arm enfolded him. “Haldir and I told you first.”

 

“The others don’t know yet?”

 

“No,” replied Haldir, “We agreed you should learn of this first.”

 

“Oh,” chuckled Aragorn, “I want to be there when you tell Gimli!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I can’t believe you did that!” Gimli fumed with frustration. “You are with child and still fought in the frontlines!” He was shocked to find out how easily he accepted the fact that Legolas was pregnant, but what he couldn’t accept was the fact that the Elf hadn’t stayed behind when his condition had become clear to him. “That is irresponsible behavior!”

 

“What are you going to do about that, Master Dwarf?” inquired Legolas, who was seated comfortably on a divan in Gimli’s guest rooms. Now that Aragorn was King of Gondor, the Gondorrim had been quick to make sure their honored guests were as comfortable as possible, assigning them the best guest rooms.

 

“I should bend you over my knee and spank you!” roared Gimli, glaring at Legolas. He loved his friend deeply, but he just couldn’t understand why Legolas had taken such a risk. The baby could have been injured, or Legolas could have suffered a miscarriage!

 

“That wouldn’t be advisable in my current state,” said Legolas in a wicked tone. “Come on, Gimli. Be glad for me.” Then he leaned in closer, whispering, “You can be the baby’s favorite uncle.”

 

“The baby’s favorite uncle?” Gimli frowned. “O, yes, I will be her favorite uncle.”

 

“Do you think I am pregnant with a girl?” inquired Legolas, amused. “Personally, I am convinced it is a boy.”

 

Gimli needed a moment to stomach that. “A miniature version of you?”

 

“And Haldir,” added Legolas mischievously.

 

“The gods help us.”

 

TBC in Behind Emerald Eyes


	10. Behind Emerald Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knows what lies behind Emerald Eyes? One of Middle-Earth's inhabitants will find out though and will find a way into Thranduil's heart, which still mourns the loss of his life mate Remmen.
> 
> Whilst Legolas and Haldir are enjoying the bliss of marital life, Thranduil continues to fade as he still grieves for his lost lover. Then, unexpectedly, a new love enters the Woodland King's life.

Main pairings; Haldir/ Legolas, Thranduil/ surprise, Celeborn/surprise. See for other already established pairings LOML.  
Summary: Just when Thranduil has given up on finding love and resigned himself to fading, a new love enters his life.  
Warning: mpreg, minor angst, child loss. 

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 1

“You have given birth to a perfectly healthy young boy,” said Elrond, pleased that the delivery had gone so smoothly. Seeing his patient’s longing expression, he placed the tiny baby into Legolas’ welcoming arms.

 

Although the birthing process had exhausted him, Legolas was still alert enough to count his son’s fingers and toes. Finally convinced that this little one had arrived with all parts attached, his eyes sought out his husband’s. “That’s number one,” he commented, recalling Haldir saying that the silver-haired Elf wanted a large family, hopefully consisting of boys. “You are a father now.”

 

Haldir’s eyes released tears of joy when his fingertips lightly caressed his son’s face.

 

Elrond, who had supervised the birth, had already cleaned the baby up, and the half-Elf now sat back, feeling mentally drained.

 

“Thank you for looking after Legolas during his pregnancy.” Carefully, Haldir sat down on the side of the bed and gently maneuvered Legolas into a reclining position, so his husband could lean comfortably against him. Their son was in Legolas’ arms, safe and warm.

 

“It is an honor to care for him,” said Elrond, who was glad this ordeal was over. He still vividly remembered the day that Legolas and Haldir had come to him, asking for his guidance in this matter. Elrond and his advisors had just arrived in Minas Tirith and the preparations for his daughter’s wedding were in full progress when Legolas had told him that he was pregnant with their first child.

 

Elrond’s eyes had widened and he had collapsed onto a chair, staring at the silver-haired Elf in disbelief. At first he had inquired if Legolas was suffering from a head injury that would make him hallucinate, but the Woodland Elf had merely smiled back at him. Slowly, Legolas had reached for his hand and had placed the limb onto his no longer flat abdomen. Elrond’s eyes had become impossibly big when feeling the slight distention. Looking at Legolas and Haldir now, he recalled part of the conversation they’d had back then…

 

#“I never knew you could carry a child, Legolas,” Elrond stared at the younger Elf in disbelief. He had never heard of such a thing! Surely, it was impossible!

 

“It happened the night Éomer came to our aid at Helm’s Deep,” revealed Legolas, reliving the frightening moments of Haldir falling to his knees – badly injured. They had thought the March Warden dead, but Haldir had clung to life and had escaped death by sheer determination. Having Legolas’ love to fight for, Haldir had survived an injury that should have demanded his life. “That night we made love as I wanted a part of him to stay with me forever, should I ever lose him in battle.”

 

Haldir pulled Legolas close, recalling the horrid memories of nearly entering the Halls of Waiting. “And I couldn’t deny him.”

 

“Legolas, explain this to me. Since when can males conceive?” Elrond found the strength to rise from his chair and studied Legolas closely, wondering what secrets the Woodland Elf was hiding.

 

“It is the way of my family. My grandfather gave birth to my father and Thranduil in turn had me.” Legolas drew in a deep breath, knowing Elrond would find his next revelation either shocking or endearing. He hoped it would be the latter, or else the half-Elf would turn away from him in disgust. “I have both male and female parts. I conceived and I will carry my child to term, with or without your guidance. It would prefer with, but…”

 

Mouth agape, Elrond continued to stare at Legolas. “I never knew this was possible!” Neither Oropher nor Thranduil had ever hinted that they could have children. “And Thranduil gave birth to you?” He had a hard time reconciling his image of Thranduil with that of a pregnant Elf, carrying Legolas beneath his heart.

 

“It is the truth,” said Haldir, “Legolas told me before we made love that first time. I was overjoyed, as I have always wanted a family of my own. And now we have started one.”

 

Elrond took his time to consider their words. “And you want me to supervise your pregnancy, Legolas?” After seeing the silver-haired Elf nod, he added, “You won’t be able to hide this for long. You will start to show.”

 

“I could return home, but I would rather not travel in my current state,” said Legolas, thoughtfully. “I would prefer to stay and have my child here.”

 

“And I agree,” said Haldir, “I don’t want him on the road, endangering his life and the life of our child.”

 

Elrond was finally beginning to accept the fact that Legolas would give birth in…”How many more moons until you deliver?” Pregnancy usually lasts one year, but he had no idea just how far along Legolas was.

 

“In six moons,” said Legolas in a warm tone. “Haldir and I will hold our firstborn in our arms in six moons if the Valar will allow it.”

 

Elrond had finally had a chance to sort out his thoughts and smiled warmly. “I am honored that you would ask me to guide you in this. I accept, of course.” He gently hugged Legolas and then congratulated Haldir on becoming a father shortly. “Does Aragorn know yet?

 

Legolas gulped. “No, I still need to tell him. He won’t be pleased to learn I fought at his side whilst carrying my child in my womb.”

 

“Tell him,” said Elrond in a gentle tone. He will rejoice like I did.”#

 

“Elrond?” Haldir frowned, now that the Peredhel didn’t react. “Elrond!”

 

Elrond startled from his musings and focused on Haldir. “Yes?” Looking at them, he found that Legolas had fallen asleep in Haldir’s arms.

 

“I am worried.” Haldir made sure their son was cradled safely in his parents’ arms. “We sent several messengers to Mirkwood, pleading with Thranduil to join us here, yet he refuses to comply.”

 

“Do you know why? Knowing what I do now, I find it hard to believe he wouldn’t want to see his grandson.” Elrond had learned a great deal about Thranduil and Legolas, since he had joined the remaining members of the Fellowship in Minas Tirith.

 

“I suspect Thranduil doesn’t want to venture into alien lands. I also believe he wants to see Legolas and his grandson, but Thranduil…” Haldir paused, “When your summons reached Thranduil, he was severely upset. He was afraid he would lose his son during this quest. The last time I saw him, Thranduil was in a bad way – fading.”

 

“Because of…” Haldir and Legolas had told him about Thranduil’s former lover, but he had a hard time recalling the name right now.

 

“Remmen.” Haldir cradled Legolas and their son against his chest. “Thranduil is still mourning the loss.” He clearly remembered the night they had shared beneath a dark sky, watching the stars fall down onto Arda. “He wished he wasn’t alone any more – that someone loved him. And the Valar know he deserves someone who loves him!”

 

Elrond moistened his lips. “I never gave much thought to the matter. Thranduil and I parted in bad ways after the Battle of the Last Alliance and I haven’t seen him since. I reckon it would be good if he visited Minas Tirith and got acquainted with his grandson. Maybe you should send another messenger?”

 

“I doubt sending another one will make a difference,” said Haldir skeptically. “Maybe more drastic measures are necessary.”

 

“What are your plans?” Elrond could tell Haldir had already made up his mind in this matter.

“Maybe Thranduil will relent when facing three, very determined ‘Lorien Elves.” Rúmil and Mithrandir had arrived in Minas Tirith some weeks ago and Orophin had arrived with Elrond’s party months ago. The three brothers had finally been reunited.

 

Elrond arched an eyebrow. “You plan on going to Mirkwood yourself?”

 

“With Rúmil and Orophin for company. Yes.” Haldir looked pleadingly at Elrond. “That leaves me with a very important request. I will have to leave Legolas here in Minas Tirith, and although I know he can take care of himself and our son, he will need special attention these next few weeks. Will you continue to look after him?”

 

“But of course!” Aragorn’s entire household had taken a liking to Legolas and everyone was looking forward to pampering the infant. “We will take good care of him!”

 

A knock on the door cut their conversation short. Haldir called out, “Who is it?”

 

“’Tis I,” replied the King, “And several of your family members, Haldir.” Rúmil, Orophin, Mithrandir, Elladan and Gimli stood behind him. His lovely Arwen was eager to open the door the moment Haldir permitted them to enter. “Haldir, we want to see the baby!” His friends were pressing him against the door and he was about to tell them to back off when Haldir told them to enter. “Thank the Valar! It was becoming hard to breathe!”

 

Legolas woke when the large party entered and was briefly annoyed with Haldir for letting them visit when he was so tired, but after seeing the delicate smiles on their friends’ faces – especially Gimli’s – he couldn’t deny them meeting his son.

 

“We won’t stay long,” said Arwen, quickly, seeing how drained Legolas looked. “We just want to make sure you and the baby are fine.”

 

“And I still need to have a word with you for fighting alongside me during your pregnancy,” said Aragorn, slightly admonishingly. “I would never have forgiven myself for endangering a new life.”

 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” said Legolas softly. His son’s hazel eyes had opened and now curiously looked at the strangers that surrounded him. Displeased with this development, he began to cry, testing the capacity of his lungs.

 

“Formidable lungs,” commented Mithrandir, teasingly.

 

“Takes after his mother,” said Gimli, giving Legolas a playful wink.

 

Legolas smiled, fatigued. His gaze sought out Haldir’s and for one moment he forgot about the others’ presence. They had discussed what name to give the baby, should he give birth to a boy and he hoped Haldir still agreed with his choice. “I want to call him Remmen.”

 

“After your father,” whispered Haldir in understanding. “I think it is an excellent name for our son.” He gently wiped away the tears that left Legolas’ azure eyes.

 

Arwen wrapped an arm around Aragorn’s waist, looking forward to the day when she would hold her own child in her arms. “We should leave them alone now.” There was still a lot to do before their wedding could take place.

 

“Yes, we should,” agreed Mithrandir, who now began to shoo everyone from the room. Gimli protested briefly, insisting he should stay and guard the baby, but the Dwarf quickly realized Haldir was more than up to his parental tasks. Grumbling displeased, he left the room, determined to visit with Legolas and the baby as quickly as possible.

 

Being the last one to leave, Mithrandir looked over his shoulder at Legolas and said, “Thranduil should see his grandson and learn of his chosen name.”

 

Legolas’ gaze darkened. “He won’t come to Minas Tirith.”

 

“Send Haldir… and his brothers. Though the thought of having to part from Rúmil pains me.” His gaze shifted from Legolas to Haldir. “Your brother has become very dear to me.”

 

When Haldir had first learned of his brother’s chosen mate, his heart had missed several beats. He had been afraid that Rúmil had made a terrible mistake, but once his brother and Mithrandir had joined them in Minas Tirith, he had seen them interact with such love in their eyes and gestures that he had changed his mind. Now, he was glad his brother had found love.

 

“Mithrandir is right,” said Legolas slowly. Exhaustion tried to pull him under, but he fought sleep bravely. “I would go myself, but I am still recovering. *You* should fetch Ada. He won’t say no to you.”

 

Elrond, who had been silent up until now, released an approving ‘hum’. Considering everything Haldir and Legolas had told him about Thranduil these past few months, he tended to agree. “If Thranduil is really still mourning his lover’s passing after all these millennia, you must find a way to bring him here.” He might fade otherwise, and Legolas needed his father alive and close.

 

Legolas’ eyes, already filling with slumber, found Haldir’s. “I don’t want to part from you, even for the purpose of you fetching my father, but I do think it is the best thing. When will you leave? And you *will* hurry back to me, won’t you?”

 

“I will leave in a few days,” said Haldir, “I want to be there for our son during the first days of his life. And I want to be there for you. Rest now.”

 

Legolas succumbed to exhaustion again – trusting Haldir and Elrond to take care of him and his son.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gimli’s large hands carefully petted the baby’s head. The Dwarf smiled brilliantly at the infant and then lifted his eyes to meet Legolas’ amused ones. “You should never have taken the risk of fighting in the frontline.” At the time he had wondered about Haldir’s concern, which had seemed exaggerated to him, but when he had learned of the pregnancy he had finally understood.

 

“I am alive, Gimli, and so is my son. What use is there in discussing something that clearly belongs in the past?” Legolas smiled happily when Remmen made soft cooing sounds. “He is perfect.”

 

“All Elves think they are perfect,” commented Gimli. “Well, I know one thing for sure; your husband isn’t perfect at all!” Gimli pointed at Haldir, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed.

 

“Don’t be so hard on him, Gimli. You and I had plenty of time to rest, but he has been on his feet since the first contraction announced the birth. He is exhausted.”

 

“That is no excuse to fall asleep on you!” A soft rumble emanated from deep within his throat, followed by warm laughter. “I am only teasing you, laddie.”

 

“I know that, Gimli,” said Legolas, obliging his son when Remmen tried to pull a thumb into his mouth. The sucking sensation that went through his digit was exceptional and Legolas blushed. Seeing Gimli’s grin, he explained, “He is my first, Gimli. I have no idea what to expect!”

 

“And your father isn’t here to tell you.” Gimli frowned. “He shouldn’t let you do this alone.”

 

“He will hopefully join us here shortly. I miss him so much!” Legolas watched Remmen’s eyes fill with sleep and he sighed, relieved. The baby demanded his attention most of the time and he was looking forward to the moment that Haldir would wake up again and could take over. He was tired.

 

“Maybe I can hold Remmen for you? That way you can get some sleep. He will be in the best hands with me,” offered Gimli, looking adoringly at the tiny infant. With his golden-hair, he looked like a miniature of his best friend. “He will always have a friend and protector in me.”

 

“I know you don’t speak those words lightly and I thank you for being a good friend.” Legolas carefully placed Remmen in Gimli’s arms, hoping his son would enjoy being close to the Dwarf.

 

Gimli held his breath when large, hazel eyes met his. “He is so tiny, not like Dwarven children at all. Well, Dwarven children are small too, but they aren’t this… fragile.”

 

“Whatever you do,” said Haldir unexpectedly, “Don’t drop my son on his head.” His eyes, now alert again, met Gimli’s.

 

“Gimli would never do that,” said Legolas, coming to his friend’s defense and only belatedly realizing that Haldir was teasing. “Haldir, I am already tired and now you are adding to my fatigue!”

 

Haldir’s expression turned guilty. “You are right. I will behave instead.” Haldir rose from his chair, walked over to Legolas, and kissed his husband lightly on the lips. “Gimli and I will look after Remmen. Try to sleep, my love.”

 

Lured into relaxation by Haldir’s voice and words, Legolas willingly gave into sleep.

 

Haldir watched Gimli rock Remmen, and smiled. His son was in the best hands indeed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next time that Legolas awoke, he found Aragorn sitting in the chair beside the bed instead of Haldir. He was severely disorientated and not even sure what time of the day it was. One look out of the window told him Arien was descending and Ithil rising. It was evening then, probably around dinner time. His next glance was for Remmen, who was sound asleep in the crib.

 

“Haldir asked me to make sure you ate,” said Aragorn, moving closer and putting a tray on the side of the bed. Seeing Legolas’ futile attempts to push himself into a sitting position he promptly assisted this friend. Once Legolas was seated comfortably, he placed the tray with food on his friend’s lap.

 

“Where is that elusive husband of mine?” inquired Legolas, sipping some of the broth. His stomach growled, and after finishing the broth he started on the fresh bread, cheese and fruits.

 

“Haldir is talking to his brothers. They are planning their trip to Mirkwood. Are you certain it isn’t too soon for Haldir to leave your side? I clearly recall how emotional you were during those last few weeks of your pregnancy.” Fondly, he thought back to that one time when he had found Legolas raving and ranting because Haldir hadn’t joined him quickly enough…

 

#”Haldir doesn’t love me any more! Just say it!” Legolas seemed to deflate now that his anger was giving way to sorrow and disappointment.

 

Aragorn didn’t know what to do. He had come upon Legolas by accident. The pregnant Elf was seated in the garden, enjoying Arien’s last warm rays that day and Aragorn had merely inquired about the other’s health. Legolas was a dear friend and he had vowed privately to look after him when he had learned of the Elf’s pregnancy.

 

Legolas reacted pleasantly and Aragorn sat down, enjoying the sunset. Then he made the mistake of inquiring about Haldir as well.

 

“I don’t know where he is,” replied Legolas, whose gaze suddenly dulled. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. He has probably tired of me. And I can’t blame him. Look at me!” Legolas placed one hand protectively over his stomach. “I have grown huge this last moon!”

 

“You are close to giving birth, my friend.” Aragorn wondered what else to say in order to comfort the distraught Elf. “It is normal for your girth to expand.” Legolas suddenly cried out beside him and he bit his bottom lip, knowing he had said the wrong thing. Quickly, he wrapped an arm around Legolas’ shoulder, trying to soothe him. “Haldir loves you. You know that. He defeated death to be with you. That injury should have killed him, but he came back for you. Don’t doubt his love for you. There is no reason to do so.” But he also realized things weren’t that simple to Legolas, who in his last month of pregnancy had turned unpredictable and highly emotional. Haldir had told him that he felt as if he had to walk on eggshells around Legolas.

 

“Then why isn’t he here? Why did he leave me alone?” Tears dripped from Legolas’ face.

 

Aragorn sighed and used his sleeve to gently wipe away the tears. Legolas had bloomed during his pregnancy and his friend had never been more beautiful to him. But Legolas obviously didn’t see things that way. He was certain that if Legolas hadn’t been married to Haldir, several suitors would have pleaded with him to accept them as his lover. “Haldir will hurry back to you. But you also know that Rúmil and Mithrandir have arrived last night and that Haldir has missed his brother.” Legolas’ sobs increased in volume and Aragorn cursed himself for saying the wrong thing again. “He didn’t desert you for Rúmil! You know that!”

 

“I want Haldir! I want him close!” Pouting, and feeling hurt, Legolas lifted swimming eyes to meet Aragorn’s. “I need him!”

 

“Stay here and I will fetch him for you!” Aragorn was growing desperate. Legolas had to calm down! Being stressed in his current condition was not advisable. ”I will be back in a moment!” He nearly ran out of the gardens, hoping to quickly locate the elusive Galadhel. When he finally found Haldir, he grabbed hold of him and dragged him along. “You are coming with me right now!”

 

Haldir’s eyes widened quizzically, realizing the stressed state Aragorn was in. It was highly unusual to see the fabled warrior out of control. “What happened?” Behind him, he heard his brother and Mithrandir chuckle amused, but the distance between them was quickly increasing.

 

“Legolas happened. He is crying because you left him alone!” Dragging Haldir with him, Aragorn released a relieved sigh when he found Legolas was still in the same place as where he had left him. “Go to him and make sure he stops crying!”

 

Haldir grinned, realizing how nervous his friend was. “Rest assured; I will comfort him.” He had grown somewhat used to Legolas’ quickly changing moods over these past few months. Leaving Aragorn behind, he quickly advanced on his lover and sat down beside him. “Miss me?” Legolas swatted him – which didn’t surprise him at all. He half expected it. “I reckon that your answer is yes?”

 

“You left me alone! You don’t love me any more!”

 

“Oh, you sweet, lovable fool,” mumbled Haldir, gently wrapping his arms around Legolas. “I will always love you. You carry my child, Legolas. I will always be yours.”

 

Legolas calmed down slowly, but still sniffed, trying to do away with his tears. “I hate it when you leave me alone.”

 

“I went to welcome my brother and Mithrandir. I would have asked you to come along, but you were peacefully asleep when I left our rooms.” Haldir rubbed Legolas’ fingers, knowing the caress would calm him down further. “I was never far away from you.”

 

“I need you close, Haldir, now that Ada isn’t here.” Legolas sagged against Haldir and enjoyed being held by his husband. “I miss him.” And then the tears started all over again. #

 

“Aragorn?” Legolas frowned, finding his friend staring blindly into the distance. “Is something amiss?”

 

“No, I was just recalling that day in the gardens when you were emotional because Haldir had gone to greet his brother and Mithrandir.”

 

“You must be relieved now that my mood changes have faded.” Legolas had finished eating and now indulged himself in a glass of miruvor that Elrond had ordered him to drink each evening, for it would strengthen him. “I am relieved too.”

 

Aragorn had the grace to smile. “You possessed other charms that made up for the mood swings. I must admit to being curious. I wonder what it was like for Thranduil when he was pregnant with you.” Legolas’ eyes filled with moisture at hearing his father’s name and Aragorn cursed himself for bringing the Woodland King up. “I am sorry.”

 

“I just hope Haldir will convince my father to come to Minas Tirith with him. I want both of them close.” Legolas composed himself and wiped away the single tear that had left his eye. “My mood swings haven’t vanished completely yet.”

 

“You are entitled to them, my dearest friend,” said Aragorn in a gentle tone. His gaze shifted from Legolas to Remmen, and he smiled, hoping the Valar would grace Arwen and he with a child in the near future as well.


	11. Chapter 11

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 2

 

“You can entrust Remmen to me, Legolas,” said Orophin, giving the baby an adoring look. This would be the first – and last evening – that Haldir and Legolas would have alone before the three brothers left for Mirkwood. Elladan, sitting in a rocking chair, which Arwen had placed in Remmen’s nursery, was also looking forward to keeping an eye on the baby. Orophin and he would never have children of their own, so they had decided to ‘adopt’ Remmen and to be the best uncles they could be.

 

“Thank you for doing this,” said Haldir, grateful that Orophin and Elladan understood that Legolas and he needed some privacy before leaving Minas Tirith. He loved Remmen, but the baby did demand much of Legolas’ time and attention, and he was looking forward to having his beloved to himself for one evening.

 

“You are most welcome!” Elladan giggled happily when Orophin placed Remmen in his arms and he started to rock slowly. The motion quickly lured the Elfling into sleep. “He is a sweet baby.”

 

“Yes, he is,” said Haldir with fatherly pride. “We will leave at the crack of dawn,” he said, reminding Orophin to be ready to leave.

 

“Rúmil and I will be there – don’t worry. Now go! Legolas is waiting for you!” Orophin shooed Haldir from the room, closed the door and then managed to squeeze his way onto the rocking chair as well. Partly sitting on Elladan’s lap, they cradled the baby in their arms, watching Remmen sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” said Legolas, sighing. He had cuddled up to Haldir in their nest of pillows on the balcony. It was a lovely summer night and the stars carried their own warm radiance. “But I don’t want Ada to stay in Mirkwood either!” His heart was torn in opposite directions.

 

“I could stay,” suggested Haldir, “And send my brothers instead.” But he also knew that would minimize their chances to convince Thranduil to visit with Legolas.

 

“They won’t succeed in bringing him here. Ada won’t listen to them. But he *will* listen to you. He has had a soft spot for you from the beginning, and he will be unable to deny you when you tell him about our baby. You must go in person.” As they were lying close to one another, Legolas rested his head on Haldir’s chest and wrapped his arms around his beloved’s waist.

 

Haldir reacted by soothingly stroking Legolas’ back and pulled him even closer. After pressing a kiss onto the golden hair, he said, “I won’t take no for an answer. I will bring him to you.”

 

“He probably feels intimidated and fears feeling out of place here,” said Legolas, swallowing hard. “It has been millennia since he left home and the thought of having to face Elrond and the others, which whom he still has differences from the Battle of the Last Alliance, might keep him back. He didn’t part with them on good terms. These are foreign lands to him. He will feel like the weaker party here.”

 

Haldir continued the gentle caresses and realized there wouldn’t be any passionate lovemaking tonight. He had hoped to make Legolas his again, but his mate was too troubled to find pleasure in that deed. Haldir understood; whenever his brothers weren’t close, he felt incomplete as well. “Do you think he is still fading?”

 

“I am afraid so,” said Legolas, voicing his worst fear. “I desperately hope you will reach him in time to stop him from fading completely. Bring him here. In Remmen he might find a reason to live. I am too selfish to let him leave for the Halls of Waiting. Something tells me his time hasn’t come yet.”

 

“I share your opinion.” Haldir held Legolas tight, hoping Thranduil would relent and join them in Minas Tirith.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Aragorn had decided to stay close to Legolas now that Haldir was leaving. The three brothers had mounted their horses and had said most of their goodbyes. Mithrandir had moved back into the castle, unwilling to watch Rúmil temporarily vanish from his life. Elladan stood at a distance, trying to stop the tears from leaving his eyes.

 

Haldir bend forward, ran his fingertips lightly over Remmen’s head and then reached for Legolas to press one last kiss onto his beloved’s lips. “Listen to Elrond and Aragorn and do as they tell you. You are still recovering, my love.” He felt reassured, knowing the two healers would keep a close eye on his family. “I vow to return with Thranduil.”

 

“I hope that Ada will let you keep that promise,” said Legolas in an emotional tone. “Now go, love. This parting is driving me to tears.” He clutched Remmen against his chest, rocking his baby slowly. “Please be careful on the roads.” There were still Orcs and Uruk-Hai on the loose!

 

“I survived Helm’s Deep,” said Haldir with a wicked grin on his face. “I will also survive this trip, as I have you to come home to.” Steering his horse away from Legolas and Remmen, his heart began to feel heavier with every step that took him further away from his loved ones. Looking over his shoulder at Legolas, he raised a hand in goodbye; a gesture that his brothers mimicked.

 

Their jaws set in determination, all three wished they could stay with their mates instead, but for Legolas’ sake they would travel to Mirkwood and drag a reluctant Thranduil to Minas Tirith to be reunited with his son and grandson.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Remmen?” Legolas lay on his back, sprawled comfortably on his bed. He missed Haldir already and focused on his son instead.

 

Remmen, wide awake after a long nap, stared questioningly at Legolas. Even as young as he was, he wondered where the other one had gone; the silver-haired Elf who also looked after him.

 

Rearranging Remmen in his arms, Legolas maneuvered his son into a comfortable position and then studied the hazel eyes. The babies he had seen in his life time usually had deep blue eyes, but Remmen’s were already as hazel as Haldir’s – a constant reminder of his beloved. “I wonder how your Ada is doing. Does he miss us? I am sure he does...” He certainly missed Haldir! The Galadhel had only been away for a few hours, but his heart was breaking now that Haldir wasn’t close. “He will bring your Ata’da back with him. I am certain you will love your grandfather, Remmen.” He just knew that Thranduil would lose his heart the moment his father set eyes upon the baby.

 

“Legolas?” Gimli had pushed the door ajar, when his knock on the door had remained unanswered. “May I enter?” He smiled brightly, seeing the love for Remmen in Legolas’ eyes. He had come here because he suspected that Legolas was feeling miserable now that Haldir had left. Maybe he could offer some comfort and create some distraction.

 

“Gimli!” Smiling fondly, Legolas sat upright and leaned his back against the headboard. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“I wanted to inquire if you are up to taking a walk with me. Some sunlight will do you good, laddie.” Gimli couldn’t help feeling protective of Legolas now that Haldir had left, and it was a delight to spend time with them. He had long lost his heart to Remmen.

 

“Legolas? I was wondering if…” Aragorn stopped in his tracks upon entering Legolas’ rooms, realizing Gimli had had similar ideas and had come here to distract their friend.

 

“Yes?” Legolas resigned himself to the situation, picked Remmen up, and carried him with him when he walked over to his friends. “Let me guess. You were wondering if I was up to a walk in the gardens.” He had half expected his friends to fuss over him, but was still surprised the mothering had started this quickly.

 

Aragorn nodded; a sheepish expression appearing in his eyes. “Arwen arranged for a pick nick. Elladan and she are awaiting us in the gardens. I hope you don’t mind. And Gimli, you are always welcome to join us.” Arwen had suggested they looked after Legolas and Remmen now that Haldir had left. They had also invited Elladan, who was gloomy now that Orophin had departed with his brothers.

 

“I will join you,” said Legolas, reminding himself they were acting in this manner because they cared for him – maybe even worried about him. They were just trying to be good friends – although he suspected that their fussing would quickly get to him.

 

“May I carry the lad?” Gimli opened his arms in the hope of receiving Remmen into them.

 

Legolas gave Gimli a proud smile and made sure his son was safely tucked away in the strong, Dwarven arms. His smile turned a bit wicked, seeing the normally grumpy Dwarf happily googooing and gaagaaing at Remmen. Letting his friends’ presence comfort him, he followed them out of the room and into the gardens.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elladan knew exactly how Legolas felt, as he missed his mate’s company as well. Both Elves found comfort in the fact that they were surrounded by their loved ones, but their friends’ company couldn’t make up for the pain the absence of their lovers caused.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The three brothers quickly grew accustomed to being on the road again and also resumed their ‘normal’ bantering. Now that they were together again, they realized just how much they had missed each other’s company.

 

After traveling almost nonstop for two days, Haldir finally called for a rest. They had gone easy on the horses, riding at a comfortable pace, and now riders and mounts were in need of a rest. They set up camp, and Rúmil took the first watch.

 

From across the fire, Haldir’s gaze met Orophin’s and he read a very familiar emotion in his brother’s eyes. “I miss them too.”

 

“It must be even more difficult for you,” said Orophin, musing aloud. “You left behind your mate and your firstborn.”

 

Haldir nodded; leaving Legolas and Remmen behind was the hardest thing he had ever done. But he also knew how badly Legolas needed Thranduil. “Are you happy with Elladan? Do you ever regret taking him as your mate?”

 

Orophin smiled; knowing that it was his overly protective big brother talking. Haldir had always wanted the best for him. “I am truly happy, Haldir.”

 

“Do you think Rúmil is happy too? I was stunned to hear that he loved Mithrandir.”

 

“I was surprised too,” admitted Orophin, “But I have seldom seen Rúmil this happy. He seems more at peace.” Rúmil had always possessed a restless streak, which was slowly diminishing and being replaced by a calm sense of belonging.

 

Haldir smiled at Orophin. “It seems that all three of us have found true love then.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Whilst standing guard, Rúmil smiled; the wind had carried his brothers’ voices over to him, and he was relieved, realizing they accepted Mithrandir in their lives.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” said Legolas, smiling at Elrond and Lindir. The minstrel had sung for them, whilst Elrond and he had played chess. During these last few days he had found himself incredibly busy. During the day, Gimli and Aragorn kept him distracted, and in the evenings either Erestor and Glorfindel, or Elrond and Lindir would sit with him. He had now reached a point where he was actually looking forward to being alone for the night!

 

“We can stay for the night if you would like that,” offered Elrond, who was still worried that Legolas was hiding his pain, merely pretending to be coping with Haldir’s absence.

 

“Elrond, please believe me when I say that Remmen and I are fine.” Legolas cast a loving glance at his son, who was soundly asleep in the cradle. “I miss Haldir, but Remmen constantly reminds me of him, and I know Haldir will return to me. There is no need to brood about my well-being, although I am flattered that you would worry about me.” Legolas rose to his feet and placed a hand on Elrond’s shoulder. “Spend some time with Lindir instead.”

 

Elrond blushed. Although it was common knowledge that Lindir and he were together, he still blushed whenever someone mentioned his lover. His love for Lindir was deep and still relatively new.

 

“I would like that, beloved,” whispered Lindir. Leaning in closer, he seductively ran his fingertips through Elrond’s tresses of raven dark hair. Looking at Legolas, he easily read the other’s desire for privacy. “Come with me.” He gently pulled Elrond to his feet and led the half-Elf into the corridor, heading for their guest quarters.

 

Legolas released a relieved sigh now that he was finally alone and closed the door. After locking it, he moved to the cradle, picked up Remmen and cuddled up to his son on his bed. All he wanted was to spend the night with his son, without any more interruptions or mothering from his friends.

 

Feeling his son’s warm body pressed against his, sleep quickly took him and he tumbled into the land of dreams – dreams filled with Haldir’s image.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“They continue to grow. Apparently this soil meets their needs.” Glorfindel, pleased, looked at Erestor, who was sitting beside him on the grass. When Elrond had asked them to accompany him to Minas Tirith they had followed, but they had also taken a small part of Imladris with them.

The seeds Glorfindel had planted half a year ago had become strong plants. Aragon had been kind enough to offer them a secluded section of the new gardens he had designed, and they now had their own little love nest, where no one else ever came.

 

“They have grown strong indeed.” Erestor’s dark eyes blazed with the fire of ardor, looking at his lover. They had successfully built a solid and loving relationship, and had finally forgiven themselves for all past mistakes. Like their plants, their love had firmly taken root in the present.

 

Glorfindel briefly leaned in closer and kissed his lover’s lips. “We will take seeds with us when we finally sail for Valinor.” The frown that suddenly appeared on Erestor’s brow worried him, and he asked, “Don’t you wish to sail for the Undying Lands?”

 

Erestor moistened his lips, wondering how to tell Glorfindel, who was looking forward to leaving. “Elrond won’t sail for a *very* long time.”

 

“But… he said that the time of the Elves was coming to an end.” Had he misunderstood?

 

“Think about it, Glorfindel. Celebrían is waiting for him in Valinor and Elrond has found a new love here. Do you really think he wants to give up on Lindir?”

 

Now Glorfindel’s brow furrowed as well. “I didn’t consider that…”

 

Erestor decided to enlighten him further. “Elrond and Lindir will return to Imladris. They just haven’t told anyone yet.”

 

“And the twins?”

 

Erestor sighed softly. Arwen had chosen her fate when she had fallen in love with Aragorn and the twins had made their choices as well. “Elladan and Elrohir *will* sail for Valinor, with Orophin and Magolion at their side. And so will Rúmil and Mithrandir.”

 

Glorfindel’s gaze darkened with worry. “I don’t like this… What about Legolas and Haldir?”

 

“I suspect that they will stay until after Aragorn’s death. Legolas and Aragorn have become the best of friends and our Woodland Prince won’t desert him.”

 

“So they will stay,” whispered Glorfindel, still confused. “Who else will sail?”

 

“Galadriel will, and so will most of our kind, but others will stay behind.”

 

“Celeborn?”

 

Erestor nodded and a warm smile surfaced on his face. “Celeborn is deeply connected to these lands. He won’t desert them until the end of Arda.”

 

“And what about us?” Glorfindel suddenly felt uncertain of their future. He had always assumed they would sail for Valinor after Arwen’s wedding.

 

Erestor averted his eyes. “My heart tells me to stay here a little longer. Although I would love to stay close to my father, I feel a duty to my friends first.”

 

“Elrond and Lindir,” said Glorfindel in sudden understanding. He moved into a cross-legged sitting position and looked deeply into Erestor’s eyes. “This is unexpected.”

 

“I should have confided in you earlier, but I wasn’t sure if our relationship was strong enough to face this discussion.” Erestor moved closer to Glorfindel, rested his head on his lover’s shoulder and purred in delight when the blond’s strong arms enveloped him in a tight embrace. “I have thought about this for a long time and I have decided to leave the decision up to you. I love you too much to be separated from you and if you wish to sail for Valinor with the next ship, I will come with you.”

 

“But part of your heart longs to stay with your friends.”

 

“Yes, I cannot deny that leaving them behind would greatly grieve me.”

 

Glorfindel thought back to everything he had gone through in order to reclaim his lover. “I have learned something very important when I followed you into Dol Guldur.”

 

“And what is that?” Erestor cocked his head to look at his beloved.

 

“I learned to trust you and to put my faith in you. If you feel we should stay, we will. I don’t want your heart torn between your friends and your lover.”

 

“That isn’t exactly correct,” said Erestor quickly. “I would go with you if you chose to sail for Valinor.”

 

“I know that.” Glorfindel pressed a loving kiss on Erestor’s hair and tucked his lover tight against his side. “But what I am trying to say is that my place is at your side and I made too many mistakes in judgment in the past. I trust you to do what is right for *us*.”

 

Touched to the core of his being by Glorfindel’s words, Erestor maneuvered himself closer, and managed to catch his lover’s lips in a passionate kiss. /Thank you for putting your trust in me. I know how hard that is for you./ He seldom used their mental link to communicate with Glorfindel these days, but this was one of those moments where he felt it would add weight to his words. Mithrandir had taught him how to use his gifts, but he felt more comfortable pretending he didn’t have any of these powers. He felt *safer* not using them.

 

/You are the love of my life, you know that, don’t you?/ Glorfindel traced Erestor’s bottom lip with a fingertip. /If you want to stay, we will stay. It doesn’t matter to me where we are, as long as we are together./

 

“Oh, you have turned into a sap, Glorfindel,” said Erestor, teasingly, and eagerly parted his teeth when his lover deepened their kiss. He would never get enough of his personal Balrog Slayer!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Oh, I am already searching!” Legolas frantically scanned his surroundings for the bottled milk, which he had just fetched from the kitchen together with his lunch. He had put the bottle on the tray as well, hadn’t he? Remmen seldom cried, but when he did, the screams tore at Legolas’ very soul. “Peace, little one! Please! I will fetch your milk!” How could he have forgotten to add the bottled milk to the tray?

 

“Ah, it seems to me that you are in need of help!” Aragorn swept into Legolas’ rooms, and quickly offered his friend the bottled milk. “I thought this might come in handy.”

 

“You are a life saver!” Legolas sat down, cradled Remmen in his arms and calmed down once his son was drinking the milk. “By the Valar, look at him!” He hadn’t expected Remmen to be this hungry!

 

“He is eager to grow into a strong warrior,” said Aragorn in a warm tone. He sat down opposite Legolas, and smiled, watching his friend feed his son. “Caring for him seems to come natural to you.”

 

“It does,” confirmed Legolas. “I can still remember bits and pieces from my first few years. Thranduil and Remmen were always there for me. It didn’t matter to me that I had two fathers. I loved them dearly.”

 

“Did you ever call Thranduil mother?”

 

“No,” said Legolas, smiling, “The first word I learned was Ada. But Remmen liked to tease Thranduil by calling him nana.”

 

Aragorn nodded, seeing Remmen drink eagerly. “He will grow strong.”

 

“I hope so. He is my first and I am not certain I am doing everything right.” Legolas’ smile faded slightly. “I wished my father was here – and Haldir.”

 

“Do you and Haldir plan on having more children?”

 

“He wants more children, yes. And so do I.”

 

Aragorn was relieved to see Legolas’ smile brighten again. “I should have known, considering he has two brothers.”

 

“Haldir is a good mate,” said Legolas slowly, “The best I could wish for.”

 

“But?” Aragorn raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

 

“I wish he were back already and that my father was here as well. I miss them both and I am afraid my father is once more fading now that I am not close to keep him here.”

 

“He must have loved Remmen with his entire heart.”

 

“He did. They were happy. *We* were happy.” Legolas’ gaze met Aragorn’s. “Seeing my father’s reaction after losing Remmen made me very aware of how transitory life is. It is said that we Elves are immortal, but I know better. Even Elves die.” Remmen had finished his milk and Legolas now helped him burp. “This is one of the things that I remember vividly; my father holding me close.”

 

Aragorn watched Legolas closely and saw the need and longing in his friend’s azure eyes. “I am certain that Haldir will succeed and convince Thranduil to come to Minas Tirith.”

 

Remmen burped dutifully, and then rested his head on Legolas’ shoulder – sleepy once more. Legolas cradled his son tightly and restored eye contact, realizing Aragorn wanted to say something. “Yes?”

 

“Your son is very fortunate to have your love, my dearest friend.” Aragorn rose from his chair, walked over to Legolas and gently stroked the baby’s head. “His hair will be golden.” A few strands already showed. “He has inherited Haldir’s eyes and your hair. He will be very fair and break a lot of hearts when he reaches his majority.”

 

Legolas’ eyes burned with pride. “Thank you for those kind words.”

 

“It is the truth,” said Aragorn, bending down to press a light kiss onto the baby’s brow. “And he will always have a home here if he desires it. Will you stay, Legolas, or take him away from us?”

 

“I will stay for now,” replied Legolas. “I have no desire to leave just yet. This does feel like home to me.”

 

“But you will leave eventually,” predicted Aragorn.

 

“Haldir and I might eventually settle down in Ithilien, but we will still be close. We will visit regularly.” Legolas gave Aragorn a reassuring smile. “I won’t sail for Valinor until after…” Suddenly his voice failed him, unwilling as he was to speak those damning words.

 

“Until after my death,” finished Aragorn for his friend, touched. “Thank you for staying, Legolas. I will need friends to help me realize my dreams.” Acting instinctively and on impulse, he gently stroked Legolas’ silken hair. “The fact that Haldir and you will stay means a lot to me.” Abruptly, he turned away from Legolas and left the room, briefly overwhelmed by his feelings. Shortly, many of his friends would sail for Valinor and a sense of loneliness and abandonment regularly washed over him. /But Legolas and Haldir won’t desert me./ His friends would stand by him until the day he died.


	12. Chapter 12

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 3 

Haldir instinctively knew something was terribly wrong when he approached the caves – the heart of Thranduil’s home. The number of sentries had been low, and now that the danger Dol Guldur had presented in the past was gone, he suspected that a large number of Woodland Elves had left for the Havens. Only a few seemed to have stayed behind, probably to care for their King. Mirkwood was deserted save for a few brave souls that watched over Thranduil.

 

“Thank the Valar that you came back!” One of the sentries approached, looking trustingly at the three silver-haired Elves. “Where is Legolas?”

 

“Legolas stayed behind in Minas Tirith after giving birth to our son,” explained Haldir, whilst he and his brothers dismounted. “How fares your King?”

 

“He is barely alive. Only a few of us have stayed behind to look after him. The majority has left for Valinor, but we couldn’t leave him behind. He is so helpless now.” The sentry gave Haldir a worried look. “He is dying.”

 

Haldir gasped; his worst fear had come true. “Where is he?” He assumed Thranduil would have taken to the telain once more, but the sentry led him underground, into the caves instead.

 

“We cannot persuade him to leave Remmen’s tomb. He refuses to leave.” The sentry’s eyes misted over with tears. “We tried to talk to him, to make him eat and rest, but he refuses.”

 

They had now reached an exit, and once they had stepped outside. Haldir immediately noticed the elegantly carved tomb, made from dark marble and laid in with the brightest emeralds he had ever seen. “You may leave us now,” he told the sentry. “We will take good care of him.”

 

The sentry nodded and gave Haldir another grateful look before disappearing into the caves again. As long as Thranduil dwelt in Mirkwood, he and a handful of the King’s most loyal soldiers would stay as well.

 

“Brother?” Rúmil stared at the huddled figure, which crouched near the tomb. “Can that be…?” Could that wretched form really be Thranduil?

 

Haldir reacted at once and slowly approached the figure, which was dressed in a green cloak – a dark hood drawn over his head, obscuring the features. “Thranduil?” Haldir’s voice trembled when speaking the name, and when he sat on his heels beside the figure, he realized the form was shaking violently. Raising a hand, he cautiously pushed back the hood, finally revealing a pale face. Haldir hissed in shock, getting his first look at Thranduil. The blond’s features had become hollow and were sunken, and the normally sparkling irises had almost faded to white. They had arrived just in time.

 

“Thranduil?” Ignoring his brothers’ shocked gasps, Haldir brushed back the brittle hair, which more resembled hay than the silken mane that it used to be. “Oh, what have you done to yourself?” Now that he was getting a closer look, he realized that the Woodland King had long ago stopped eating. Sharp bones pressed against the transparent skin.

 

Rúmil and Orophin exchanged worried looks, wondering what to do. In the end, they decided to wait for Haldir’s orders. Their brother knew Thranduil best and hopefully knew what course of action to take.

 

As Thranduil wasn’t reacting to his presence, Haldir moved even closer and managed to gather the other Elf’s skeleton-like hands in his. There was only one word Thranduil had always responded to and he hoped it would reach the dying Elf now as well. “Ada?”

 

Thranduil blinked. Had someone called him father? He had been out of touch with reality for the last few days and was waiting to finally journey to the Halls of Waiting, but now someone had called him father. His lips moved, and he tried to pronounce his son’s name, but no sound came forth from his lips. He hadn’t drunken any water for days and his mouth was too dry to obey his command to speak.

 

“Oh, Ada!” Relieved to find Thranduil lifting his eyes in an attempt to focus on him, Haldir reacted by enveloping him in a loose hug. His first instinct had been to press Thranduil tightly against him, but the blond seemed so fragile that he was afraid he would accidentally snap bones. “We arrived just in time!” Thranduil was in no state to protest his actions, and Haldir took charge. It was obvious they needed to attend to Thranduil’s needs, and there was only one person who could truly do that. “I am taking you with me to Minas Tirith.”

 

Thranduil pinched his eyes shut, and tried to identity the Elf in front of him. He knew it wasn’t Legolas for his bond with his son would tell him so, but this Elf seemed familiar as well.

 

“We are leaving, Ada. You cannot stay here.” Haldir pushed his arms beneath Thranduil’s knees and back and gently lifted his charge. He was shocked at the low weight he held in his arms and realized they needed to get food and water into the badly malnourished and dehydrated body. “Rúmil, head for the kitchens and have them prepare a light meal. Orophin, locate Thranduil’s quarters and fetch clean clothes. Also pack a bag with his personal belongings and add traveling clothes. We are taking him with us and we will leave within the hour!”

 

His brothers hurried to carry out his orders, whilst Haldir carefully carried Thranduil into the direction of the kitchens. “Have you recognized me by now, Ada?”

 

Thranduil had closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Haldir’s body warmth against his. He couldn’t remember the last time that strong arms had caught and carried him, and now that he felt safe, he simply wished to surrender to this sensation, not think about it.

 

“I reckon that is no,” whispered Haldir, displeased. “I should have come for you earlier.” They had finally reached the kitchens and the one cook that had remained behind had prepared a light meal with Rúmil’s help.

 

Haldir placed Thranduil at the kitchen table and found he had to sit down as well, keeping his arms wrapped around the other Elf’s waist. Without the support Thranduil would have swayed and crumpled. “Rúmil, he needs to eat some hot broth, but he cannot feed himself and I must hold him up.”

 

Rúmil sat down, took hold of the spoon, and slowly fed Thranduil.

 

Thranduil’s eyes opened in surprise, finding something pleasantly warm making its way down his throat. More of the warm liquid was spooned into his mouth and he swallowed automatically. Sitting in silence, he swallowed most of the broth.

 

Rúmil and Haldir exchanged pleasant looks, though their gazes remained dark with worry. “You are doing well,” said Haldir, praising his dazed charge. Thranduil was hanging on by the skin of his teeth. He didn’t dare think of what he would have found had they arrived a day later – probably Thranduil’s corpse. “Just a little bread and then we will let you sleep.”

 

Sleep? When was the last time he had slept? How long had he kept this vigil at Remmen’s tomb? Something warm and soft was pushed between his teeth and he tried to spit it out, but he lacked the strength to do so.

 

Rúmil had soaked the bread in more broth before feeding it to Thranduil, figuring it was easier to swallow for the Woodland Elf that way. Looking at the sunken features, his heart went out to Thranduil. “We should leave for Minas Tirith as quickly as possible.”

 

“You are taking him with you?” The sentry that had guided them to Thranduil had reappeared and now stood beside the cook.

 

“Yes, I will take him to Minas Tirith, where Legolas resides.” Haldir saw relief in their eyes and knew they would help him. “Do you have fresh horses? Ours are tired and I want to hurry back.”

 

“We will provide you with Thranduil’s best horses,” promised the sentry before hurrying away.

 

“I packed most of his personal belongings and some clothes – just as you ordered, brother.” Orophin had found his way into the kitchen and placed the bag on the floor. “Are we ready to leave?” Originally the brothers had planned to rest a day before beginning their journey back to Minas Tirith, but after seeing the state Thranduil was in, they had realized they didn’t have the luxury of rest. They had to leave as quickly as possible.

 

Haldir felt Thranduil’s food intake was satisfactory and nodded once. “Did you also find a warmer cape? A riding cloak, perhaps?” Thranduil was as cold as ice beneath his touch. “But first we need to clean him up.”

 

The cook had apparently anticipated that request and placed a large bowl filled with warm water on the table, together with towels and a wash cloth.

 

“Thank you,” said Haldir, smiling at the she-Elf. Then, his gaze shifted to his brothers. “You will have to wash the grime and sweat off of him whilst I steady him.”

 

The two brothers carefully removed Thranduil’s dirty clothes and then gently washed the pale skin. Finally the real extent of damage the grief had done showed and they did their work in silence and with grim determination. After cleaning Thranduil up and washing the worst dirt from the brittle hair, they dressed their charge in warm clothes, leather boots and finished with a warm, dark green riding cloak that should keep Thranduil warm.

 

Haldir and his brothers managed to get Thranduil to his feet, and when his hazel eyes met the Woodland Elf’s, Haldir realized the other Elf was more aware of them than he had first been. “I am sorry for doing this without your permission, but you can clearly not attend to your needs, so we will do it for you as long as necessary.”

 

The warm broth, bread and clean clothes had partly brought Thranduil out of his trance and he stared questioningly at Haldir.

 

Haldir tightened his hold on Thranduil and made sure the other Elf wouldn’t accidentally take a fall. “You recognize me.”

 

Still too drained to talk, Thranduil managed a weak nod. He lacked the strength to move on his own and had to permit Haldir to lift him once more. Ashamed of being carried like a babe, he succeeded in resting his head against Haldir’s chest. Part of the brittle hair fell in front of his face, hiding his features from his rescuers. He had reached the point where he no longer cared what happened to him and he allowed Haldir to take control of his life – or what was still left of it.

 

“Orophin? Hold him whilst I mount my horse.” Satisfied, Haldir found that their horses had been replaced and their saddle bags filled with enough food to last until they had reached Minas Tirith. He mounted his horse and then helped Orophin lift Thranduil into the saddle in front of him. “I have him.” His arms encircled Thranduil’s waist once more and he guided the other Elf’s back against his chest, encouraging Thranduil to rest against him. Now that the blond was safely in his arms, he told his brothers to mount.

 

The sentry and cook appeared to say their last goodbyes to Thranduil, but their King hardly heard their words, when they wished him well.

 

“Rest assured. He is in the best hands with us,” said Haldir, “And thank you for caring for him.”

 

“We love him,” said the sentry. “He is a good and kind King and it pains us to see him in this sorry state.”

 

“What will you do?” asked Rúmil of the last remaining Woodland Elves.

 

“We will take his possessions to Minas Tirith and, once we know he has settled down there comfortably, we will leave for Valinor.”

 

Haldir pressed his heels into the flanks of his horse and guided the mount away from the caves. It would take them one week at least to travel to Minas Tirith and they could only hope Thranduil would survive that long. “Think of Legolas,” whispered Haldir into Thranduil’s ear. “Think of Legolas and your grandson. Legolas loves you and wants you to join them. Think of them. Think of their love for you. Hold onto your love for them!”

 

/I will try,/ thought Thranduil, lost in a maze of racing, and confusing thoughts. He just hoped he had enough strength left to fight death.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir had finally located Legolas and Remmen in the gardens. Summer lasted long this year and Arien shone generously, showering Arda with warmth. In a few weeks’ time he would sail for Valinor, and although he yearned to return there, his heart ached for the ones who would stay behind. It also ached with a sweet pain for the youngest addition to Aragorn’s household.

 

The Elfling was lying on his back on a blanket, resting comfortably against Legolas, who was relaxed in half-slumber. Although the Woodland Elf appeared asleep, Mithrandir was confident Legolas had long heard him approach.

 

“Mithrandir,” said Legolas slowly, yawning and pushing himself up onto an elbow to welcome the Istar. Remmen produced some unintelligible sounds and Legolas immediately redirected his attention to his son. “It appears you really like being out in the open.”

 

“He is a true Woodland Elf, then,” said Mithrandir, who sat down cross-legged opposite Legolas. “The Valar truly blessed you with this gift.” Remmen awkwardly raised an arm and tried to grab hold of Mithrandir’s beard. The Wizard reacted by offering Remmen his thumb instead and before he knew it, the baby was suckling the digit. “He is very eager.”

 

“And very hungry most of the time! He will be a very chubby baby,” said Legolas lightly. He reached out to gather his son in his arms. “Come here, little one. You don’t want to harass Mithrandir.”

 

“Oh, please let him!” Mithrandir gave Legolas a pleading look. “I like babies.”

 

Legolas arched an eyebrow questioningly, finding Mithrandir had picked Remmen up and was rocking him in his arms. “You do?” There was sense of delight on Mithrandir’s face which he had seldom seen before.

 

“All life is precious, Legolas, but this young fëa shines especially strong. It is a pleasure to hold him.” Mithrandir had settled Remmen on his lap and allowed the baby to play with the long strands of his hair and beard. “Just don’t tug at them.”

 

“I must admit to being a bit surprised,” ventured Legolas eventually.

 

“In what way?” Mithrandir managed a cast a quick look at Legolas before focusing on Remmen again.

 

“I never thought my son and I would be this easily accepted. Thranduil told me that Oropher preferred the family secret to remain exactly that; a secret. Only a handful of trusted advisors ever knew the truth.”

 

Mithrandir considered this. “Much has to do with your person, Legolas. You bravely fought at Aragorn’s side, saved many lives and defended the weak. People remember that. They eagerly accept you and your son.”

 

“For that I am glad,” said Legolas, smiling brightly, but then his expression darkened. “Aragorn told me you will sail for Valinor shortly?” Mithrandir would leave with the same ship that would take Frodo, Galadriel and the twins to the Undying Lands.

 

“That’s true,” admitted Mithrandir. “I wish I could stay longer, but my time here has come to an end.”

 

“And Rúmil, the twins and their lovers will join you?”

 

“But Elrond will stay.” Mithrandir shook his head at that. “Galadriel, Elrond and I agreed a long time ago to sail for Valinor together, but he now broke that pact.”

 

“Because he loves Lindir and wishes to continue to love him.”

 

“I suppose so,” said Mithrandir in a thoughtful tone. “But there is still a number of Elves that will stay.”

 

“Haldir and I will stay until after Aragorn’s passing,” said Legolas calmly.

 

“And then there is Celeborn.” A sad tone colored Mithrandir’s voice. “I wish he would change his mind and join us, but he is too connected to Arda. He will stay as well. Galadriel and he agreed it was time to dissolve their marriage, enabling both of them to choose new lovers.”

 

Legolas frowned. “But I thought their love was deep and sincere!”

 

“It is,” confirmed Mithrandir, “Their bond can never be undone, but they love each other enough to give one another a new chance at happiness.” Mithrandir’s gaze now darkened as well. “Did you receive any news from your father yet? I worry about him.”

 

“Haldir will bring him here. I have to believe in that.” Legolas’ features briefly contorted when Remmen pulled hard on Mithrandir’s hair, causing the Istar to release a pained groan. “I will take him.”

 

“No, let him.” Mithrandir fondly smiled at the little one. “I wish I had been there for Erestor when he was this young.”

 

Legolas finally understood. “You can play with Remmen whenever you wish.” Maybe playing with the baby would ease Mithrandir’s pain ever so slightly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“We should make camp for the night,” said Orophin in a thoughtful tone, after catching sight of the exhaustion on Thranduil’s pale face. “Make something hot to eat and encourage him to sleep. I will take first watch.”

 

Haldir nodded his approval and called out to Rúmil, who was riding at the head of their little group. A few moments later, Orophin had left to find a good position to keep watch, and Rúmil and Haldir managed to get Thranduil off of the horse and safely onto the grass.

 

Haldir placed his bedroll on the grass and assisted Thranduil in getting comfortable whilst Rúmil built a small, but satisfactory fire.

 

After seating himself next to the Woodland Elf, Haldir gently pulled Thranduil into a sitting position against him. “Can you hear me?” Thranduil’s eyes were unfocused and he wasn’t sure just how alert the elder Elf was. A weak nod against his shoulder reassured him, and he told Rúmil to reheat the broth the cook had packed into their saddle bags. Maneuvering Thranduil a little more, he gained a free view of the other’s face. “We are leaving Mirkwood. Do you understand that we are taking you to Minas Tirith?” Thranduil’s weakness worried him, and he hoped the Woodland Elf would slowly recover now that he was being cared for.

 

“I… un…der…stand…” stuttered Thranduil in a barely audible tone. His voice was hoarse and raw from being unused for so long. His gaze found Haldir’s and he stared questioningly at his son in law.

 

“Legolas sent us. He was worried about you, and rightly so,” explained Haldir, who accepted the bowl filled with hot broth, which Rúmil now handed him. “You should eat something. You need to get something hot inside of you.” He brought the spoon to Thranduil’s lips, and the Woodland Elf obediently swallowed the warm liquid. At least Thranduil was cooperating and not fighting him! Maybe Thranduil even wanted to be taken care of? “We will reach Minas Tirith in one week and then you will meet your grandson for the very first time. He is a delight – and a handful,” said Haldir, smiling wickedly. “I reckon he takes more after you than after Legolas and I combined!” Haldir’s heart warmed, seeing the smile that now appeared on Thranduil’s face. “Don’t you dare give up on yourself, Ada. You still have a lot to fight and live for!”

 

Thranduil obediently ate more of the broth and the in the warm liquid soaked bread. He was finally beginning to feel warm again, and together with that warmth, his ability to think rationally returned. It finally dawned on him that he had almost surrendered to death; that he had almost deserted his family. But his grief and longing for Remmen had been all-consuming, and even now he wondered how to continue to live.

 

Haldir read some of Thranduil’s emotions in the surprisingly lucid eyes. The emerald, green color was slowly returning to the irises, which assured him they had been in time to reclaim the elder Elf. “Give yourself time to grow strong again. You are weak from grief now, but you will continue to grow stronger.”

 

Thranduil managed a weak smile, touched by Haldir’s concern for him. For the first time in moons, he felt sleepy and his eyes were actually closing.

 

“Yes, give in to sleep, Ada. It is a healing sleep.” Haldir gently maneuvered Thranduil onto his side, and then gestured for Rúmil to join them as well. Thranduil was in Haldir’s strong arms and the march warden held his charge as close as possible, watching the deep lines grow shallow and relaxed in sleep. Thranduil shivered, and Rúmil lay down behind the Woodland Elf, spooning himself behind his charge. Thusly cocooned – feeling warm and secure – Thranduil finally surrendered to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn paced his private quarters, terribly missing Galadriel’s company. They had seldom been apart during these last few millennia, and letting her leave for Valinor was one of the hardest things he would ever do. But Galadriel yearned to be reunited with her loved ones – her daughter in particular – and he felt it was unfair to ask her to stay.

 

But that left him lonely – a feeling he was hardly accustomed to. Feeling caged inside these four walls, he quickly opened the door and fled this section of the building. He found himself heading for the gardens, where he found Elrond and Lindir, sitting quietly on a bench, holding hands and whispering softly. He managed to remain hidden from their view, and watched them a moment longer.

 

He didn’t begrudge Elrond his new love. He had seen the half-Elf grieve when Celebrían had been injured and eventually had left for Valinor. Like Galadriel wouldn’t begrudge him a new lover, Celebrían wouldn’t begrudge Elrond his.

 

But seeing them so happy fed his loneliness and he quickly continued on. Not in the mood for meeting more love birds, he headed for a more secluded part of the gardens. But he didn’t have any luck and ran into Erestor and Glorfindel next, who were tending to their section of the gardens. One look at them told him they were desperately in love again. Any troubles they might have had where gone now.

 

He managed to keep back a growl of frustration and left the gardens behind him, heading for the forest instead. He ventured deep inside the forest and found comfort in the fact that the trees were telling him tales, inviting him to sit within their branches and to listen to his pain. His first reaction was to ignore them, but in the end he gave in, and sought out an ancient oak tree. Quickly climbing it, he settled against a heavy and strong branch, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree. Listening to the trees’ chatter, his heart calmed down and he began to feel something akin to inner peace again.


	13. Chapter 13

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 4

 

 

Making his way through the gardens after spending most of the day listening to the trees, Celeborn happened upon Legolas and Remmen, who were also on their way back to their rooms. Since Legolas and he had talked very little, he now saw an opportunity for conversation. “It was a beautiful day, wasn’t it?”

 

Legolas, who only now noticed the Elf-Lord’s presence, nodded quickly. He had been lost in thought, his musings with his fathers instead on focusing on his surroundings. Remmen was asleep, cradled easily against his chest. “But it won’t be long before autumn will make its presence known.”

 

Celeborn smiled at the sleeping baby. “I wish Celebrían had been that easy to handle, but she used to cry a lot during the first years of her life.”

 

“The only time Remmen cries is when he is hungry,” revealed Legolas, looking dotingly at his firstborn. “He is a surprisingly sweet baby. I expected sleepless nights, filled with crying, but he sleeps through most of them.”

 

“You are very fortunate then.” Celeborn studied Remmen’s face, relaxed in sleep. “I recognize some of Haldir’s features.”

 

Legolas smiled warmly. “So do I.” His gaze shifted from his son to Celeborn. “We seldom talked in the past. I recall only one occasion and that was when my father sent me to ‘Lorien after my coming of age. He felt I should meet the rulers of the Golden Wood.”

 

Celeborn nodded. “Your father and I didn’t part on good terms after the Battle of the Last Alliance. When we went separate ways, he was embittered because he was only leading a small percentage of his people home.”

 

“He never spoke ill of you,” added Legolas when they had finally left the gardens and stepped into the corridor. “But I did hear echoes of regret in his voice.”

 

“We were friends once,” volunteered Celeborn. “But communication eventually stopped. I haven’t seen Thranduil for three millennia.” And oddly enough he realized he was looking forward to hopefully rekindling their lost friendship. “The last time I sent him a message was after Remmen died. I offered to visit with him, but he never sent a reply. I gathered that was his way of telling me not to meddle with his affairs.”

 

Legolas sighed deeply. “My father wasn’t coherent after Remmen died and a lot of messages remained unopened and unanswered. Our advisors did their best to deal with the situation, but chaos ensued. I doubt your message went unanswered on purpose.”

 

“I hoped something like that had happened,” he explained, seeing Legolas’ puzzled look. “For that means he might still want to talk to me.” Haldir had told him about his journey to Mirkwood to collect Thranduil, and Celeborn curiously asked, “Do you think Haldir will succeed in bringing your father here? If memory serves me right, Thranduil never left Mirkwood after returning from the Battle of the Last Alliance.”

 

“My father has greatly changed over the last three millennia.” Legolas opened the door to his rooms and stepped inside, gesturing for Celeborn to follow. It was important to him that the elder Elf learned more about Thranduil. His father needed to see friendly faces upon his arrival. “And I greatly worry about him. His mourning has taken on unhealthy proportions. I worry he will fade after all.”

 

“And that is why Haldir won’t take no for an answer.” Celeborn had wondered about Haldir’s determination to bring Thranduil back with him. “Your father has a friend in me, if he desires it.”

 

“I will tell him,” said Legolas, giving Celeborn a blinding smile.

 

Realizing the time had come to give Legolas and Remmen some privacy, Celeborn excused himself and headed for his own rooms. His short conversation with Legolas had given him lots to think about.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ithil had risen for a second time since they had taken to the road and Haldir again called for a halt. The three brothers quickly divided all tasks and it was agreed that Rúmil would go hunting whilst Orophin stood guard. That arrangement gave Haldir plenty of time to study Thranduil and to try to engage the remarkably silent Woodland Elf in conversation.

 

“You seem more alert this eve,” said Haldir offering Thranduil the water skin that Elrond had filled with miruvor before the three brothers had set out for Mirkwood. The half-Elf had thought it might aid Thranduil’s recovery and Haldir now saw to it that the Woodland King drank one cup each day. The strong wine had already put some color back on the haggard looking face.

 

“I feel more alert,” confirmed Thranduil softly, no longer stuttering. “But I still feel cold.” The warm riding cloak did little to ward off the cold emanating from within his soul.

 

Haldir reacted to hearing those words and moved closer to Thranduil, sharing his body heat with the recovering Elf. Handing his charge a slice of bread and cheese, he watched Thranduil munch slowly. “Hopefully Rúmil will catch some game.” Thranduil needed something more substantial than broth and bread.

 

Thranduil nodded absentmindedly, still nibbling on the food. “Would you tell me about my grandson? And Legolas, of course.” He cast an insecure look at Haldir. “I never wanted to desert them. The grief just took me.”

 

Haldir nodded reassuringly. “Legolas is well. The birth went without complications and we now have a beautiful baby boy. Legolas called him Remmen.” Haldir sucked in his breath, seeing the little color leave Thranduil’s face again. Hadn’t he mentioned his son’s name before? “Legolas chose the name to honor his father.”

 

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Thranduil quickly sipped more miruvor. Gingerly, his eyes sought out Haldir’s. “The child deserves a better name. Not a name that belongs to one of the dead.”

 

“Aiya,” said Haldir, sighing deeply. Thranduil’s pain felt very real to him and he reached out, wrapping an arm around the fragile form beside him. “Think of it as a way to restore life to your former mate. This way we will always remember him.”

 

Tears made their way down Thranduil’s face. “I cannot stop mourning his passing and it has become so much worse since Legolas and you left.”

 

“But you will shortly be reunited with Legolas.” Haldir gently raised Thranduil’s face to make eye contact with the elder Elf. “And once Legolas and I decide to settle down somewhere, you are more than welcome to stay with us. We want you in our lives.”

 

“Are you sure?” Thranduil frowned. “I understand that my son wants me close, but don’t you consider me a hassle? A nuisance?”

 

“Never.” Haldir wiped the last, remaining tears from Thranduil’s cheeks. “You have become very dear to me.” Hoping Thranduil felt more at ease now, Haldir urged his charge to eat more of the bread. “Rúmil, you had better catch something tonight!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

About half an hour later, Rúmil returned, carrying three dead rabbits with him. He sat down, cleaned them and then prepared them over the fire. They seldom ate meat, but at times the weaker specimens needed to be taken out for the stronger ones to flourish.

 

Casting a probing look at Haldir and Thranduil, he found his brother tightly holding the Woodland Elf. He had never realized just how close a family the three of them had become – Legolas, Thranduil and Haldir. Haldir had seldom called Celeborn father, and to hear Haldir call Thranduil father instead was a strange thing. But he accepted their bonding like his brothers had accepted his love for Mithrandir.

 

“Here, eat this.” Rúmil had put the most succulent and nourishing pieces of meat into a bowl and now handed it to Thranduil, who gingerly accepted it.

 

Thranduil didn’t feel comfortable eating the best parts and wanted to object, but Rúmil’s and Haldir’s gaze stopped him from doing so, and he started to eat. His body reacted at once, crying out for more once he had finished his helping.

 

A loud growl, emanating from Thranduil’s still partly empty stomach echoed through the night and made Rúmil smile knowingly. “Here, eat more, as you are still hungry.” He had refilled the bowl and handed it once more to Thranduil.

 

“I cannot eat more. What about the three of you?”

 

“My brothers and I are healthy and can easily live on bread, fruit and cheese, but you cannot,” replied Haldir sternly. “And now eat.”

 

Realizing they wouldn’t accept no from him, Thranduil resigned himself to the situation and enjoyed the food. “Haldir? What does my grandson look like?”

 

“He has my eyes – according to Legolas – and his golden hair,” said Haldir, smiling warmly. “You are a grandfather now.”

 

Thranduil’s still weak smile gained a bit more radiance. “Grandfather… Haldir, I do want to meet my grandson. Don’t let me fade, do you hear me?”

 

“I vow that you will reach Minas Tirith alive and that your health will continue to improve. Put your faith in me.”

 

Thranduil tiredly rested his head on Haldir’s shoulder, vowing to find a way to finally let Remmen go. It was time to let go of the past and embrace the present.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“The foul creature breathed hot, withering fire, and its pointy tail lashed out at us! Ecthelion moved quickly and took out one of those accursed Balrogs, but there were still more monsters left, and we—“

 

“Glorfindel!” Erestor arched an eyebrow, wondering about the appropriateness of Glorfindel’s tale. Remmen promptly cried out in displeasure and Erestor privately cursed himself for interrupting the tale; apparently Remmen had enjoyed listening to Glorfindel’s voice. “Maybe you should tell him something more suitable.”

 

“Oh, I could tell him about the battle we fought at the slopes of Mount Orodruin, when we fought Sauron!” Glorfindel’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

 

“Gagaga…!” Remmen cried out again, and his tiny hands reached for Glorfindel’s tunic. The blond was seated in the rocking chair, rocking him slowly and he wanted to hear that golden voice again! Why had it stopped?

 

“No more bloodshed, please,” requested Erestor, who quickly fetched the bottled milk in case Remmen was hungry again. “And for the Valar’s sake! Talk to him!”

 

Glorfindel gave Erestor a wicked grin. “I never thought you would order me to talk, my love.”

 

“Oh, I will never hear the end of this!” Erestor joined Glorfindel, and offered Remmen the milk, but the baby refused to drink, staring at the golden-haired Elda instead.

 

“Ecthelion took out three of them; one after the other. Gondolin trembled on its fundaments when a new attack was launched. One of the dratted creatures cornered me! I had to take him out, you understand that, don’t you?” Glorfindel was so caught up in his story-telling that he didn’t notice the fact that Erestor’s eyes were growing misty with tears. Remmen, who stared at him with big eyes, was slightly drooling, and the chubby fingers had wrapped themselves deeply in the fabric of his tunic. “I took him out, but—“ Glorfindel stopped, shocked to hear Erestor choke back a sob. “Love? What?”

 

Erestor’s swimming eyes met Glorfindel’s brilliant ones. “I never realized that… that you… Did you know… How did it feel?”

 

“Death?” Glorfindel’s voice radiated calm and understanding. Remmen thankfully remained quiet, and Glorfindel managed to take hold of Erestor’s hand, pulling his beloved close. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

 

Erestor leaned in closer and pressed a possessive kiss on Glorfindel’s lips. “Don’t you ever die again; you hear me?”

 

“I hear you,” said Glorfindel, a wicked sparkle returning to his azure eyes. “Love? I think Remmen needs changing. The story must have been too exciting for such a young Elfling.”

 

Erestor’s nose caught the foul scent and he moved away. “You ‘entertained’ him… You change him.”

 

“Ah, love of my life, I am so glad we cannot have any children. We would be lousy parents.” Although it was fun to sit with Remmen for a few hours whilst Legolas slept, he was glad he could return the Elfling to Legolas when their time was up.

 

“He loves to listen to you when you tell tales,” said Erestor warmly.

 

Glorfindel grinned. “Let’s change the little handful together. I will undertake the dangerous operation of removing the dirty diaper, whilst you move in with a clean cloth to wipe his bum and then we will apply a clean diaper together. Between the two of us we should manage to carry out this perilous mission.”

 

“That sounds very dangerous indeed, but I will face this mortal danger for your sake.” Erestor stared deeply into his beloved’s azure eyes and kissed him again. This time, Remmen cooed happily – approvingly -- from between them, giving their kiss his seal of approval.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rúmil’s eyes narrowed, wondering what Thranduil was hiding beneath his cape. They had traveled during the day and now that night was upon them, they would rest. Although it was Haldir who spent most of his time with Thranduil, his oldest brother had insisted he stood watch tonight, so his brothers could rest. That left him in charge of Thranduil, as Orophin was out hunting.

 

Thranduil looked up at Rúmil from where he was seated and pulled his riding cloak closer. He preferred having Haldir close, but knew all three brothers were worried about him and intent on caring for him.

 

“What do you have there?” Rúmil sat down beside Thranduil and stirred their little fire, which had been about to die. Between the green of Thranduil’s cloak, he saw something red – or brown. He studied Thranduil, trying to determine the nature of the hidden object.

 

A soft hiss escaped from within the confines of Thranduil’s cloak and the head of a fox poked out, giving Rúmil a displeased look.

 

“A fox?” Rúmil smiled warmly. Each day spent with Thranduil proved to be a new challenge. “Where did you find him?” The animal was still young – a cub. “Shouldn’t he be with his mother?”

 

“He was alone when I came upon him. I do hope his mother will come back for him.” In the meantime he had taken the animal under his wing.

 

Rúmil teasingly said, “You still have those mothering instincts, don’t you?”

 

Thranduil’s eyes darkened momentarily, but he then realized Rúmil was merely teasing him. He had to grow used to being teased again. He had dwelt in darkness for so long!

 

Rúmil continued, “Carrying Legolas and giving birth to him must have been quite the experience. Except for Legolas and you I don’t know of another male who ever carried a child to term.”

 

“It is a gift – or a curse,” said Thranduil, gently petting the fox’s warm body. “My grandfather viewed it as a curse, but my father didn’t and neither do I. It is a gift.”

 

Rúmil moistened his lips, wondering how personal Thranduil would allow this conversation to become. “Your condition is improving. When we found you, we were worried we had come too late.”

 

“I gave into the darkness of my grief and allowed it to consume me. I had reached a point where I just wanted to die. I had completely forgotten about Legolas. He had written he was pregnant, but the fact somehow never registered.” Sudden movement to his right revealed a fox, and Thranduil released the cub, which immediately headed for his mother. “Be safe,” whispered Thranduil, smiling at the two animals as they disappeared from view.

 

Rúmil also smiled, and offered Thranduil his daily cup of miruvor. They would eat later, once Orophin rejoined them, but he already handed the recovering Elf some bread as well. “You can soak it in the miruvor if you want, but you are eating that.”

 

Thranduil smiled. “At times you sound like Legolas.”

 

“I must admit you surprised me the first time we met. I had heard these tales about an arrogant King, and you proved them all wrong.”

 

“I will take that as a compliment then.” Thranduil dipped the bread into the miruvor and munched on it. “I had a part in letting those rumors grow. I isolated myself, and the only communication that took place was through my advisors and Legolas.”

 

Rúmil gave the elder Elf a wistful smile. “You have buried yourself in your past too long. It is time to face the presence.”

 

“I know that.” Thranduil had finished the bread and now emptied the cup. “And I am trying – hard. But it is difficult.”

 

“Maybe it is a good thing then that we are traveling to Minas Tirith. A new environment, new faces and the presence of your son and grandson might work wonders.”

 

“I hope so,” admitted Thranduil in a weary voice. “I am so tired of living in the past – of being alone.”

 

“You are no longer alone,” said Rúmil, finally reaching out to place a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “You are with your family now.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor managed to carry out his father’s suggestion and channeled the fire he had created, until it was situated in the palm of his hand. It was becoming easier to manipulate the fire, and Mithrandir’s guidance ensured no one was hurt in the process. “I think I can control it.”

 

“The fire, yes,” confirmed Mithrandir, carefully probing his son’s eyes, which were alive with fire. “But what about your other powers?”

 

“What other powers?” Erestor’s big eyes fastened on his father. “Don’t tell me I have more powers!”

 

“I am referring to the fact that you can farspeak with anyone you choose and your ability to guide others in this way. Do you still maintain your link with Glorfindel?”

 

“It has grown even stronger,” admitted Erestor. “I feel his presence – his love for me – constantly.”

 

They were seated on a bench, enjoying Arien’s last rays for the day. Father and son enjoyed spending time with each other and both wished they had known millennia ago they were related. “Am I right to assume that you and Glorfindel have sorted out the last of your problems and are truly happy?” Mithrandir had seen them work in their little garden and had sensed an intense feeling of belonging, seeing them together.

 

Erestor blushed weakly. “Yes, we have.”

 

“But?”

 

“I still need to grow accustomed to his charming new self. It feels like he never stopped wooing me. Every day he tries to win my heart all over again – though it already belongs to him.”

 

“And that is a bad thing?” Mithrandir gave his son a probing look.

 

“He never acted like that in the past and… I am afraid it will stop.”

 

Mithrandir arched an eyebrow. “Erestor?”

 

“I like the fact that he tries to woo me anew each day, although that still takes some getting used to – but at the same time, I love it when he pays me that much attention. I crave it. I am not sure how I will react when he takes that away from me.”

 

“Did you tell him that?” Erestor’s answer would show if trust between them had really been established.

 

“I did.” Erestor’s blush actually deepened. “And he proceeded to ensure me that he would never stop wooing me.”

 

Mithrandir smiled. “Glorfindel has finally realized how much pleasure can be found in making you happy. Let him.”

 

Erestor nodded once. “And then there is Magolion. I don’t know how to react to him.” His brother had tried making amends whenever possible, but he still didn’t trust the elder Elf. “I still feel he can turn on me and lash out at me the moment I least expect it.”

”That will take time, yes,” agreed Mithrandir, “Magolion is trying to win your trust and you should give him a chance to prove himself.” But he also knew how difficult it was for Erestor to give Magolion that chance. “Magolion has won Elrohir’s heart. Do you really think Elrohir is fooled that easily?”

 

“Elrohir is a good judge of people, but I also know how devious Magolion is.”

 

“Was,” corrected Mithrandir, wondering if he could help his son accept the fact that Magolion had changed. “He risked his life for you in Sauron’s keep.”

 

“Yes, he did. But I still don’t know why.”

 

Mithrandir had seen Magolion’s approach, but had chosen not to reveal his presence to Erestor. Signaling for the other Elf to step up to them, he clasped Erestor’s hand in his. “Why don’t you ask him?”

 

Alarmed at finding Magolion standing in front of him, Erestor tried to rise from the bench, but Mithrandir stopped him. Reluctantly, he remained seated. He would have preferred to look Magolion in the eye, instead of having to look up at him.

 

“Yes, why don’t you ask me?” Magolion forced his heart to beat slower. It had sped up hearing the last lines of their conversation.

 

“I asked you that question before,” said Erestor in a defensive tone.

 

“Try again.”

 

Erestor bit his bottom lip and forced out the question. “Why did you risk your life for me?”

 

“Because…” Magolion frowned, searching for the right words. Before answering Erestor, he sat down on the grass, realizing Erestor felt uncomfortable having to look up at him. “Because Elrohir taught me about brotherly love. Until I met Elladan and Elrohir I had no idea what it meant to be the elder brother. I learned its importance by watching Elrohir and Elladan interact. It took me a while – as I was too busy sorting out my thoughts – but I then realized I wanted that with you as well. I had changed and couldn’t stand by and watch you die. I had to do something, even if the act would demand my life. Elrohir has taught me well.”

 

“You want that with me?” Erestor stared at Magolion in disbelief. “But you hate me!”

 

“I hated you – past tense,” said Magolion, correcting his brother. “And it wasn’t really you I hated. I hated Nana, and Mithrandir to some degree, but it was easier to direct that hatred toward you.” He drew in a deep breath, and encouraged by Mithrandir’s approving look, he continued, “I hurt you in the past. I hurt you in many ways and many times and I understand you cannot just forgive me and move on. All I want is a chance. A single chance to prove myself to you.”

 

Mithrandir cast a probing glance at Erestor, realizing his son was busy searching Magolion’s thoughts for the lies in them. Instead, his son only encountered truth. That shocked Erestor and Mithrandir gently rubbed his son’s knuckles, feeling the impact that realization had on Erestor.

 

Erestor stared at his brother in disbelief. Magolion was speaking the truth. His brother really wanted to make amends and build a relationship. It was only fair to tell him that their time to do so was very limited. “I won’t sail for Valinor. Glorfindel and I will stay.”

 

Magolion and Mithrandir gave Erestor a surprised look. “You will stay?” Mithrandir hadn’t expected his son to stay. “Why?”

 

“I am not ready yet to sail. My heart tells me to stay.” Erestor looked pleadingly at his father. “My time hasn’t come yet.”

 

Mithrandir’s gaze grew troubled. “But you will sail for the Undying Lands one day?”

 

“I think so. Maybe after Aragon’s passing. I just cannot leave yet.”

 

“Then our time is limited here,” realized Magolion, “But I still want to try. Will you spend some time with me tomorrow?”

 

Erestor considered his brother’s request and studied the other’s eyes for a long time. “Yes, I will.”

 

Magolion smiled, relieved that Erestor was giving him this chance to prove himself. He vowed not to let his brother down.


	14. Chapter 14

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 5

 

Thranduil managed to dismount unaided – a first since they had left Mirkwood. They had been traveling for one week now and Haldir expected them to reach Minas Tirith tomorrow evening. The thought of being reunited with Legolas thrilled Thranduil, but he still worried he would be considered a burden – in spite of Haldir’s assurances that they loved having him close.

 

Haldir had called for a stop when his brothers had expressed their desire to go swimming in the stream they had come upon, and after seeing Thranduil’s hopeful look, he had agreed.

 

Rúmil and Orophin were already in the process of undressing, after having seen to their horses’ needs. The two brothers then ran into the water and began splashing one another. Haldir smiled, still standing on the shore, taking his time to undress. To his surprise, he found Thranduil had entered the water already, and by the smile on his face he was clearly enjoying the feel of the cool water against his skin. The Woodland Elf was careful to stay immersed most of the time – that way his still too skinny body wouldn’t draw any concerned looks. But Haldir knew Thranduil was on the road to recovery and that the elder Elf needed time to put some proper meat onto his bones and wouldn’t have mentioned it. But Thranduil didn’t know that.

 

Finally naked as well, Haldir joined his brothers and promptly found himself chased by them. At times he wondered if his brothers would ever grow up, but at the same time he had to admit he loved their carefree spirit. Whilst wrestling Rúmil – and winning of course – he kept one eye on Thranduil, who remained at a distance, obviously not wanting to infringe on what the Woodland Elf thought was family bantering.

 

Haldir thanked the Valar when his brothers finally calmed down and settled for floating on the water and teasing the curious fish that had swum up to them. He headed for Thranduil instead. The elder Elf had left the water and had wrapped himself in his riding cloak. Sitting down next to the elder Elf on the grass, he wrung the water from his long, silver hair and then combed through it using his fingers. “You must be looking forward to seeing Legolas and Remmen.”

 

Thranduil nodded. “But I still have to grow accustomed to my grandson’s name. I never expected Legolas to choose that name for his son.”

 

“You didn’t?” Haldir frowned, whilst braiding his hair into a single, loose plait. “Why? You must know how much he loved Remmen.”

 

“I do, but I still didn’t expect him to name his son Remmen.” Thranduil buried deeper into the folds on his riding cloak. “It took me aback.”

 

Haldir studied Thranduil closely, and was relieved to see that the once dull and blank expression had completely vanished. The sparkle had returned to the emerald eyes, which were alert again. It was amazing what a week on the road had done for Thranduil. What the grieving Elf needed was attention and some tender, loving care. Legolas had always been the one to supply that affection, but with the Prince taking part in the Fellowship and later on staying in Minas Tirith, Thranduil had begun to fade again.

 

Thranduil swallowed hard and then gave Haldir a probing look. “Who else is staying in Minas Tirith?”

 

“Elrond and—“ Haldir paused, hearing Thranduil’s sharp intake of breath. “It is my understanding that you haven’t talked to him since the battle at Mount Orodruin?”

 

“We parted on bad terms,” acknowledged Thranduil in concern. “Maybe I can avoid dealing with him.”

 

“I doubt that very much.” Seeing Thranduil’s wondering expression, he said, “Elrond is a renowned healer and Legolas would feel more comfortable if Elrond examined you. The Peredhel did supervise his pregnancy and successfully delivered Remmen, thusly earning his trust.”

 

Thranduil’s gaze was darkening, realizing Elrond would confront him. The half-Elf had never been one for avoidance; Elrond preferred to deal with problems head on. “Who else?”

 

“Lord Celeborn arrived a few weeks ago.” Haldir smiled fondly, but the smile froze on his face seeing Thranduil’s startled expression. “You cannot possibly hold a grudge against him! He is my father, for Elbereth’s sake! He raised me! I *know* he is a good person!” Haldir automatically came to Celeborn’s defense.

 

Thranduil smiled sorrowfully at Haldir, hating to see his son in law torn in loyalty. “I haven’t spoken to them for over 3000 years. I blamed them for my father’s death.”

 

“Do you still?”

 

Thranduil shrugged. “I don’t really know. At the time, I was convinced they were to blame, together with Ereinion, but I am not so certain anymore. I loved my father, but I also know he tended to act rashly and recklessly. He…” Talking about Oropher caused an old pain to wake again inside him. “He meant the world to me.”

 

Haldir thought he understood. Oropher had been Thranduil’s mother and father – his everything. “What will you do when you meet Elrond and Celeborn?”

 

“I will try to act politely, but I am not certain I will succeed, Haldir. I refused to deal with them for three millennia.” Thranduil brushed a damp strand out of his face and smiled, watching as Rúmil and Orophin tried to catch some fish – their dinner. “I will feel out of place there – I already do. I ruled Mirkwood, now I am just a visitor.”

 

Haldir shook his head. “Legolas has won Aragorn’s affection and friendship, and the King of Gondor will treat you with the utmost respect. You will be a most honored guest.”

 

“Ah, yes, Aragorn. Or Elessar, as he is known among his people. Legolas told me about him in his letters. I know they have become good friends.” Thranduil pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. Staring at the water – and the two splashing Elves – he added, “I am afraid, Haldir. This is the first time in over three millennia that I left my home and I am headed for alien lands.”

 

Haldir gave Thranduil a wistful smile. “Why not see it as finally coming home? Coming home to your family and friends of old, whom you grew alienated from. Why not see this as a chance to bury the past and move on?”

 

Thranduil returned the smile. “It is hard for me to see it that way, but I will try.”

 

“And who knows,” whispered Haldir into Thranduil’s ear, “maybe the Valar will grace you with a new love?” Haldir was surprised to see Thranduil grow pale. “Do you remember that night beneath the stars? You wished you would find a new love.”

 

Thranduil closed his eyes. “I already lost my beloved, Haldir. True love only finds you once in a lifetime. Not twice – never twice.”

 

“I beg to differ.” Haldir caressed Thranduil’s face and waited for the swimming, green eyes to open again. “You deserve another chance at love and I am convinced the Valar will grant you one.” A single tear escaped Thranduil’s eyes, which Haldir caught between his fingertips. “Don’t ever give up, Ada.”

 

Thranduil’s jaw set firmly with newly found determination. If Haldir believed in him, he couldn’t do less.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Sire? The border sentries report that Haldir’s group has been sighted. They are expected to arrive at sunset.” The soldier bowed respectfully and then left the room after delivering this news to his King.

 

Aragorn immediately caught the brilliant shine born in his friend’s azure eyes at hearing this news. “We will welcome them together, Legolas,” he offered, “and dinner will be served upon their arrival in your private rooms.” For Legolas’ sake he hoped that Thranduil had agreed to come to Minas Tirith.

 

“Do you think…?” Legolas didn’t dare finish his sentence. What if Thranduil had denied him and had stayed in Mirkwood instead? But the Elves were leaving for Valinor, and eventually Thranduil would be all alone in his realm.

 

“I hope so.” Aragorn smiled warmly at Legolas, who was seated on the floor on a warm, thick fur together with his son. Remmen was reaching out with his tiny hands, and cooed happily when Legolas picked him up. “Remmen is a true delight and your father should get to know his grandson.”

 

Legolas was beginning to feel nervous now that Haldir’s group had been sighted. He had to wait several hours to finally find out if his father was with them and that knowledge caused his stomach to do some nauseating somersaults. Haldir had promised him that he wouldn’t fail, but he also knew how stubborn his father could be.

 

Elrond – who still regularly checked on his former patient – stepped into the room to see how Legolas and Remmen fared and instantly noticed the golden-haired Elf’s excited state. “Legolas? Shouldn’t you be resting? Maybe you overestimated your strength and—“

 

Legolas cut him short. “Haldir will arrive during the evening and I pray to the Valar that my father is with him.”

 

Until now Elrond hadn’t really considered how to approach Thranduil, but he was now forced to do so. “Celeborn and I should be there to welcome your father.” Hopefully showing Thranduil they were willing to rebuild an old friendship would be the first step in the right direction. “I will inform Celeborn.”

 

Legolas nodded once and felt slightly relieved now that Elrond was gone. Looking at Aragorn, he whispered, “What if he stayed in Mirkwood?”

 

“I feel confident that Thranduil heeded your request to come visit with you.” Aragorn leaned in closer and rested a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “From your stories, I gather that he greatly loves you and that he is a kind, if somewhat stubborn Elf. He will want to get to know your son.”

 

Legolas drew in a deep breath and then sighed. “I hope you are right.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The fact that Erestor grew tense and rigged when they met for their first walk, made Magolion nervous in turn. He understood that it took Erestor time to understand and accept that he had changed, and he felt thankful that his younger brother was giving him this opportunity to prove himself. But the silence between them was becoming uncomfortable and Magolion was desperately thinking of something to say.

 

“I suppose I should properly thank you for saving my life,” said Erestor, breaking the silence first. “I never expected you to act in that way.”

 

“I have changed,” said Magolion, cocking his head to study Erestor’s wary expression. “Elrond started the process but Elrohir helped me finish it. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it. I would probably have resorted to my old ways if it hadn’t been for Elrohir’s love. He supported me and even more importantly – he believed in me.” Magolion wondered if his next remark was still appropriate, but he went ahead anyway. “Much like you believed in Glorfindel after all the pain he caused you. Glorfindel wouldn’t have made it either without your love.”

 

Erestor took his time to consider Magolion’s words. He couldn’t deny there was a measure of truth to them. “Whenever I look at you, I am reminded of the older brother that laughed at me and sent me away when I came to him for comfort. The brother that hurt Lindir and tried to take Glorfindel away from me.”

 

Magolion swallowed hard; knowing he had to acknowledge the vile role he had played in the past. “After seeing Elladan and Elrohir interact, I regret that I never was the big brother you so badly needed. I was so focused on my own pain and worries that I never realized you didn’t have the same tools I had to fight off the pain. You were an Elfling and I had already reached majority. I should have stepped in there to stop any bullying. I should have been the one you came running to when you were hurting.”

 

Erestor quickly turned his head away. He didn’t want Magolion to see the tears that had formed in his dark eyes. “I really wanted that -- a brother -- a real brother. I still want it.”

 

“You do?” That admission surprised Magolion and he halted in his tracks. Realizing that Erestor was refusing to look at him, he moved until he stood in front of his younger brother. The tears that still leaked from Erestor’s eyes touched his heart, and he gingerly reached out – uncertain if his touch was welcome and would be accepted by the hurting Elf.

 

Erestor involuntarily held his breath, feeling Magolion’s fingertips hesitantly caress his face. He almost took a step away from the other Elf, but forced himself to stay in place and accept the touch. If he really wanted to give Magolion his chance he had to face his own fears as well. “I am afraid that you will betray me after I give you my trust. You hurt me so deeply, so many times in the past that it is difficult for me to allow you in.”

 

The expression in Erestor’s eyes told Magolion that his brother was being completely honest with him and he appreciated that. “I don’t expect you to simply trust me, Erestor. The fact that we are here, discussing this, is the first step we need to take. Things will get easier from this moment on.”

 

“Do you really think so?” Erestor also realized that this conversation was an important step and wondered if they really had a chance to build some sort of brotherly relationship. The Valar knew he had always wanted one with Magolion. There was still a part of the Elfling left in him who had always craved a big, protective brother. “I am afraid to try,” he admitted honestly.

 

“So am I,” confessed Magolion. “I know that this is my last chance and that letting you down will cost me greatly. I won’t repeat past mistakes; please believe me.”

 

“I want to believe you – I really do.” The Valar help him, but he did! Magolion then gave him a weak, hopeful smile, and his last resistance melted away inside him. Magolion would get his chance to be his big brother, but if Magolion failed, Erestor promised himself to never give his brother a chance again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was hard to say who was the most nervous concerning the upcoming meeting with Thranduil. It *was* easy to say who was the most excited though; Legolas. He constantly shuffled his feet, shifted Remmen in his arms, and continued to scan the horizon, eager to catch a first glimpse of the party about to arrive. Finally, four forms appeared on the road, and it felt like a gigantic burden had been lifted from his shoulders, realizing there were four and not just three riders. “Haldir kept his word,” he whispered absentmindedly, at which Remmen yawned and began to drift off into sleep.

 

Next to Legolas stood Aragorn and Arwen, holding hands. They were happy to see Legolas’ hopes come true.

 

Mithrandir’s gaze already searched for his lover’s features and finding Rúmil smiling at him, he felt relieved. Ever since admitting his feelings to the silver-haired Elf, he was afraid of losing him.

 

Elladan had also joined them, eager to be reunited with Orophin. How he had missed his mate!

 

At Legolas’ other side stood Elrond, who still felt responsible for Legolas’ health. Although two weeks had passed since Legolas had given birth, he still kept a close eye on his charge. But currently his interest lay with the slightly slumped forward form seated in front of Haldir. He was surprised to find that Thranduil wasn’t riding his own horse, and was sharing Haldir’s instead.

 

Celeborn wondered about the same thing, and his eyes narrowed, finding Thranduil pale and fragile looking. His instincts warned him that Thranduil was weaker than he appeared, and his heart went out to the other ruler. They had been close friends once and it still pained him that they had stopped being friends after the Battle of the Last Alliance. Hopefully, he would now get a chance to rebuild that friendship.

 

Impatience and eagerness to be reunited with his father overwhelmed Legolas and he started toward the riders. “Ada!” After giving Haldir a grateful look, he walked over to his father, who was dismounting and heading toward him. Overjoyed at having Thranduil close once more, Legolas literally threw himself into his father’s arms, holding Remmen close.

 

Thranduil reacted instinctively and opened his arms to receive Legolas and his grandson into them. He didn’t know when he had started to cry, but tears dripped from his face, as his arms buried Legolas and Remmen in a hug. “I missed you so much!”

 

Haldir exchanged a pleased smile with Aragorn and Elrond and then dismounted as well. Staying close to Legolas, he waited patiently for the emotional storm to calm down.

 

Rúmil and Orophin slid off the backs of their horses and joined their lovers, exchanging kisses and hugs. They then excused themselves to give their lovers their full attention.

 

Aragorn, who had pulled Arwen into his arms, smiled warmly. Seeing Legolas happy, made him happy. “Welcome to Minas Tirith, King Thranduil.”

 

Thranduil nodded absentmindedly and mumbled a thank you, but all he had eyes for were his son and grandson. Looking into Remmen’s hazel eyes for the first time, it was obvious the little one had inherited those big, curious eyes from Haldir. But the first hairs were golden – Legolas’ heritage. “He is beautiful.”

 

Legolas smiled, giddily. “I am so happy you decided to come here, Ada. Haldir vowed he would bring you here, but I was too afraid to believe he would succeed.” Now that he was finally getting a closer look at his father, his worries reappeared and deepened, seeing the fragile state Thranduil was in. “Ada, are you fading – again?”

 

Thranduil shook his head. “Not any more. I was grieving heavily when Haldir arrived, but the depressing feeling has faded since then.”

 

Aragorn was content to watch the reunion and patiently waited for the moment Thranduil would be ready to greet him in turn. The moment also offered him a chance to study Thranduil and he was taken aback by the uncanny resemblance between Legolas and his father. The only thing that set them apart was their eye color. He knew Thranduil was as old as Elrond was, a bit younger than Celeborn, but the Woodland Elf could have been Legolas’ twin brother. It also gave Thranduil a strange kind of vulnerability, which he couldn’t place.

 

“May I hold him?” Thranduil carefully accepted Remmen into his arms and rocked the baby, who had woken again and was now staring at Thranduil with big eyes.

 

“I named him Remmen,” said Legolas, only now wondering if that name would cause his father pain. He had never considered the name could have a negative effect on Thranduil.

 

“Haldir already told me,” said Thranduil slowly, wondering if he should tell Legolas about his initial reaction to learning that name. “At first I was taken aback by your choice, but I have changed my mind since then. Your father would have approved, I am certain of that.” Remmen’s big eyes were pools of wonder and curiosity and Thranduil smiled warmly at the Elfling. “You are a sweet one.”

 

Proudly, Legolas smiled. “He is a lovely baby.” Seeing Thranduil hold his son and smile at Remmen warmed his heart. Aragorn cleared his throat and Legolas realized he should properly introduce his father. “Aragorn, this is my father, Thranduil.”

 

Thranduil composed himself, but found it still hard to focus on anything else besides Remmen. Tearing his eyes away from the baby, he made eye contact with the King of Men. “Thank you for your hospitality, sire.”

 

“There is no need for titles between us, I reckon – sire,” Aragorn added teasingly, delighted to hear Arwen giggle at his remark. “Legolas is my dear friend and you are most welcome here.”

 

“Thank you.” Thranduil nodded, flattered that Aragorn had welcomed him personally. Next, his gaze shifted to Elrond and Celeborn; he wasn’t certain how to react to their presence.

 

Celeborn sensed Thranduil’s uncertainty and indecision and took the initiative. “It has been a long time since we talked last. I hope we will take up old habits and walk and talk during your stay here.”

 

“Those are kind words,” said Thranduil cautiously, “And I thank you for them.”

 

“I also hope you will enjoy your stay here,” added Elrond, “I am certain that Remmen is enough reason to stay for as long as possible.”

 

Haldir, who had remained silent until now, stepped up to Legolas and kissed his husband. “We have a lot to discuss, my love.” Giving Thranduil a look that said ‘don’t you dare revert back to mourning!’ he gently stroked his son’s face. “I won’t be parted from the two of you again for a very long time.”

 

Thranduil judged it best to hand Remmen to Haldir, who was dotingly looking at his firstborn. Remmen settled comfortably against his father’s chest and slowly fell asleep again.

 

“Let me show you to your rooms,” said Legolas, eagerly taking his father’s hand in his. “Aragorn made sure they are next to mine.”

 

“Dinner will be served in Legolas’ rooms in thirty minutes. You must be hungry.” Aragorn inclined his head in a temporary goodbye and guided Arwen back into the building.

 

Legolas began pulling Thranduil with him, and signaled for Haldir to follow them. He wanted his family to himself – his mate and his father.

 

That left Elrond and Celeborn standing alone in the courtyard. Elrond cleared his throat and when Celeborn headed for the doorway, he fell into step beside the elder Elf. Seeing Legolas’ happiness had awoken his desire to be with Lindir all over again.

 

“He is weaker than he wants us to know,” whispered Celeborn knowingly. “He always tried to hide his weaknesses and it always backfired on him.”

 

“I must admit I never saw him in such a sorry state before. His hair used to shine like gold and now it is dull.”

 

“Something tells me he was a lot worse when Haldir came upon him,” said Celeborn, musing aloud. “I never realized he was fading – still grieving for Remmen. I should never have allowed for us to stop all contact. We were friends once, Elrond, the three of us. Now he feels like a stranger to me.”

 

“I agree.” Elrond looked Celeborn in the eyes. “Then we must change that and befriend him again.”

 

Celeborn nodded. “Yes, befriending him is wise and advisable. But will he allow us close again?”

 

“There is only one way to find out. We must try.”


	15. Chapter 15

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 6

 

Haldir had briefly excused himself to give father and son a chance to talk in private and returned to his rooms to bathe and change his clothes. It felt good to have a moment of quiet, though after time went by he began to miss his husband’s and Thranduil’s presence.

 

In the meantime, Legolas showed Thranduil to his quarters. When his father sat down on the bed, he placed Remmen in Thranduil’s arms, watching them. Sitting down beside his father, he studied him closely. “I almost lost you, didn’t I? Haldir arrived just in time.”

 

Thranduil immediately admitted the truth. “You are right, my son. I surrendered to my mourning. When Haldir found me I was more dead than alive.” After moistening his lips, he continued, “When I finally realized what had happened to me, I was grateful that Haldir had taken me away from Remmen’s tomb. Whilst we were on the road I began to feel alive again.” He smiled weakly at Legolas. “I want to live for you and for my grandson. I have so much left to live for that I feel guilty for almost succumbing to grief.”

 

“Don’t feel guilty,” said Legolas, loosely embracing his father. “I am glad you are alive and well – and here at my side.”

 

Thranduil slowly rocked Remmen in his arms. “When I first heard that you had named him Remmen I didn’t feel comfortable with that, but now I understand that this baby will keep his memory alive and I thank you for that.”

 

“Why don’t you rest for a while?” suggested Legolas, accepting Remmen into his arms again. “Dinner will be served in my rooms later. Take a bathe, freshen up. You have been on the road this last week.”

 

“Is that your way of telling me that I reek of horse?” asked Thranduil, laughing amusedly.

“No, but you should wash the grime of the road off of you.” Legolas leaned in closer and placed a chaste kiss on his father’s brow. “Thank you for coming here. I know you feel uncomfortable with Elrond and Celeborn close, but please trust me when I say that they mean well. They were also nervous to meet you after such a long time.” After seeing his father nod, Legolas walked over to the doorway. “I will fetch you in time for dinner.”

 

Thranduil let himself fall backward onto the bed after Legolas had closed the door behind him and his gaze swept across the room. He had been assigned luxurious rooms, but he still missed the freedom of living high up in his talan. However, these rooms were a lot better than the carved quarters deep within his caves. Now that he was here he just had to make the best of it. He would start with taking the bathe Legolas had suggested and then change into some clean clothes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What ails you, Celeborn?” Galadriel, who was directing her ladies in packing her belongings for her journey to Valinor, immediately noticed her husband’s troubled expression.

 

“Thranduil has arrived.” Celeborn’s eyes narrowed in thought. “We almost lost him to grief -- again -- and we never noticed.”

 

“But he is alive today, isn’t he?” Galadriel momentarily deserted her task and guided Celeborn over to one of the couches, where they sat down. “Tell me why your heart feels burdened.”

 

“We should have tried harder to restore contact after Remmen died. We took the easy way out when no reply came from Mirkwood.”

 

“We did what we felt was right at the time,” replied Galadriel, watching him closely. “But there is more.”

 

“I want to rebuild our old friendship. We were close when we still lived in Doriath.” Oropher had encouraged their friendship, and Celeborn had taken Thranduil under his wing for quite some time. “I miss being able to talk to him – walk with him. Why didn’t I realize that before?” Questioning eyes sought out Galadriel’s. “How do I gain his trust?”

 

“Slowly,” said Galadriel, “slowly, and with much dedication.” She hoped Celeborn and Thranduil would succeed in rebuilding their old relationship, for she was afraid her husband would feel lonely once she had left for Valinor. “If you really want to mend your friendship you will succeed.”

 

Celeborn smiled at her, raised her hand and pressed a kiss onto the back of it. “I will always love you, my Lady.”

 

“And I will always love you, but I also set your heart free to love again.” She caressed a strand of his mithril hair. “We will part shortly and you will need friends – many good friends.” Her ladies would travel with her, and so would her grandsons. It was Celeborn she was worried about. Watching him closely, she wondered if there was more to this sudden desire to befriend Thranduil, but she didn’t ask that particular question. She had lost the right to do so when she had set him free.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Eat!” said Haldir cheerfully. “Aragorn employs some of the best cooks in his kingdom!” The meal was truly exquisite and delicious, and he would make sure Thranduil ate his fill.

 

Thranduil started on the soup; knowing Haldir was keeping a close eye on him. “Legolas, I regret not being there for you during your pregnancy and delivery. I might have been able to support you.”

 

Legolas shrugged his shoulders once and then nodded. “Having you at my side would have been nice. I didn’t know what to expect, but thankfully Elrond monitored me closely and there were no complications.”

 

Thranduil’s smile was remarkably soft when he looked at his son. “And now you are a parent too.”

 

Haldir smiled proudly. “I had a part in making him a parent,” he said teasingly.

 

“A very big part.” Legolas gave his husband a doting smile.

 

“Do you wish for more children?” Thranduil looked inquisitively at Haldir.

 

“As many as Legolas is willing to give me.” Haldir had the grace to blush.

 

Legolas placed his hand on top of his husband’s and gave it a tight squeeze. “I will most certainly enjoy making more Elflings.”

 

Thranduil laughed warmly. “I can imagine!”

 

Haldir’s blush deepened; Thranduil’s teasing made him feel awkward, but when he looked at the elder Elf, he saw a hint of loneliness and longing in the emerald eyes and he was reminded that Thranduil *was* alone. A tempting idea then entered his thoughts. Surely, there was someone in Gondor who was interested in courting a wicked, Elven King?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The day of Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding had finally arrived. Thranduil had only been in Minas Tirith for one day and now found formal robes on his bed upon his return to his rooms. Legolas had asked him to attend the ceremony and he had reluctantly given in. He would have preferred to stay clear of the crowd, but as Legolas was Aragorn’s closest friend, he had to make an appearance.

 

“Legolas must have chosen these,” he whispered absentmindedly, running his fingertips over the silk fabric. The robes were made of the deepest green, embroiled with silver leaves and lined with the softest green he had ever seen. They were truly fit to be worn by a King.

 

“You *are* attending the wedding, aren’t you?” Haldir had followed Thranduil to make sure the elder Elf found the garment and changed his clothing. “Legolas would be disappointed if you stayed in your rooms whilst the whole of Gondor is feasting!”

 

“I will be there,” promised Thranduil. “I am not looking forward to attending the ceremony, but I won’t disappoint my son.”

 

“Good.” Haldir arched an eyebrow and wriggled it suggestively. “These robes will look good on you. You will definitely draw some attention.”

 

“But I don’t want to draw any,” said Thranduil in a pleading tone. “I would prefer to blend in with the background.”

 

Haldir then made a bold move. After walking up to Thranduil, he placed a finger beneath the other Elf’s chin to raise it, and then looked into the emerald eyes. “You could never blend in with the background, Ada. You are unique and everyone who sees you has to acknowledge your presence. Who knows, maybe you will break some hearts, or cause them to beat faster with passion and desire. Maybe someone will fall in love with you.”

 

Thranduil shivered momentarily. “Don’t say such things.”

 

“That night in which the stars fell down onto Arda you said you wanted someone to love and to love you back. You will never find that person if you hide from life.”

 

“Maybe I have changed my mind since then.”

 

“I doubt that,” said Haldir thoughtfully. “I reckon you are afraid of what will happen should someone make his interest known in you.”

 

Thranduil’s mouth had gone dry. Haldir was right, but he couldn’t admit that, could he? “Haldir, you are prejudiced in this matter. Do you really think anyone will look twice at my haggard face?”

 

“Don’t do yourself such discredit, Ada. You are still Thranduil, and you know it.” Haldir smiled warmly – even teasingly. “You will turn a lot of heads and maybe there will be one among them you find fair and interesting in turn?” Thranduil then gave him the oddest look. “Are you having cold feet, Ada?”

 

Thranduil swallowed hard, and then nodded. “Maybe.” He had learned a long time ago to be very careful what he wished for.

 

“Then it is time to plunge into the deep,” decided Haldir. “Legolas and I will be ready to join the festivities within the hour. We will meet with you here before leaving for the ceremony.” That way they could make certain Thranduil would accompany them.

 

Realizing he had lost the fight, Thranduil gave in. He would accompany them tonight and, just to please Legolas, he would be on his best behavior, but he would definitely try to draw as little attention as possible.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil remained at Haldir’s side most of the time, occasionally holding Remmen, who was a sweet baby and stayed quiet during the wedding ceremony. Aragorn had called upon Legolas as his witness, which left Thranduil and Haldir watching Legolas bear witness to the wedding.

 

During the ceremony, Thranduil caught Elrond’s gaze, which was directed at him with a knowing expression in his gray eyes – though what Elrond pretended to know remained hidden to Thranduil. He continued to hold Remmen close and rocked him occasionally. It seemed that the things which used to soothe Legolas when he had been a baby also worked on Remmen now.

 

Sudden movement behind Mithrandir, who was now proclaiming Aragorn and Arwen bound for life, made Thranduil curious, and his breath caught in his throat, catching sight of strong features, wild, blond mane, and hazel eyes, which held a strong fire in them. The Man was dressed in the garb of the Rohirrim, so it was safe to assume he was one of the horse lords.

 

Haldir had heard Thranduil’s breath catch, and he cast an amused glance at his father in law. Finding him staring, he followed Thranduil’s gaze. Ah, Éomer had caught Thranduil’s attention? He frowned then, wondering what would come of this.

 

“Who is he?” whispered Thranduil into Haldir’s ear, careful not to disturb the happy couple, who were now exchanging wedding bands.

 

“Éomer, King of the Mark. He succeeded Théoden when he died in battle.” Haldir suddenly felt reluctant to reveal more. He had hoped someone would draw Thranduil’s attention, but Éomer was a mortal Man. What if Thranduil fell in love with him and then realized he would shortly lose his beloved? This was an attraction he shouldn’t encourage.

 

“A King of Men.” Much like Aragorn, then. Thranduil’s brow furrowed and he pulled Remmen close to his chest. Éomer hadn’t seen him yet, and he wanted to keep it that way, hiding himself behind Haldir’s back. “There is fire in this one.” Instinctively he knew it would burn him and in the process rekindle his own. But this was folly. He shouldn’t be thinking in this way. Fortunately for him, the wedding ceremony had come to an end and everyone cheered when Aragorn claimed his first official kiss from his wife.

 

Legolas congratulated the couple, but didn’t linger. His instincts told him to return to his father’s side, and when he did, he immediately saw the feverish expression in the emerald eyes, which were fixed on someone at Aragorn’s side. /Éomer? Why is my father staring at Éomer?/

 

His thoughts returned to the first time Éomer and he had met. It hadn’t taken him long to aim an arrow at the proud horse lord. /Oh, I am a fool! Of course is Ada drawn to him! I felt some attraction as well./ But the attraction had been weak and his love for Haldir strong. /But Ada isn’t bound and he will feel it stronger./ Legolas understood perfectly; Éomer’s fire and passion was just what his father needed. /But Éomer is mortal. Nothing good can come out of this./ Exchanging a look with Haldir, he realized his husband had reached the same conclusion. As much as it pained them, they had to smother this attraction, for both of them knew Thranduil wouldn’t survive losing another lover.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

There was another one who had seen the spark flare in Thranduil’s emerald eyes, and Celeborn felt troubled as well. /Elbereth, don’t let him fall in love with a mortal. He won’t survive losing him./

 

But was the Queen of the Valar listening?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Where do you think you are going?” Legolas leaned against the wall of the corridor, watching his father’s retreating back. “The feast is only beginning.” He had entrusted Remmen to Haldir’s care upon seeing Thranduil sneak off, and he had quickly taken up pursuit.

 

Thranduil nervously moistened his lips, and then turned to face his son. “You know I don’t do well with crowds.”

 

“So you are going to lock yourself up in your rooms instead? Ada, that is not acceptable.” Legolas quickly covered the distance between them, placed his hands on Thranduil’s shoulders and looked at his mirror image – save for their eyes, they could have passed for twins. “Please don’t do this.”

 

Thranduil’s gaze softened. “My dearest son, you don’t know what it is that you are asking.”

 

“I think I know… Someone caught your eye, didn’t he?” Legolas wasn’t sure bringing up Éomer was the right thing to do, but he needed to install some hope in his father. He had to prevent Thranduil from locking himself away.

 

Thranduil blushed weakly. “I was too obvious.”

 

“You cannot hide such things from me,” chided Legolas teasingly. “Éomer is a courageous warrior, a good choice, but –“

 

“He is mortal,” finished Thranduil for him. “I know that. It is the very reason why I left the feast.” He lifted pleading eyes to meet his son’s. “Let me go.”

 

“No.” Legolas firmly shook his head. “I don’t know what madness has come over me, for I agree with you that falling for a mortal will bring you pain, but at the same time I cannot allow you to hide.” He wrapped an arm around his father’s waist and gently steered him back toward the main hall. Maybe it was time to take some risks.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn and Elrond noticed Thranduil’s reluctant return. “Is Legolas really dragging his father into the hall?” asked Elrond, slightly bewildered. He had never thought it possible that Thranduil would let anyone dictate his actions.

 

“It certainly looks that way,” said Celeborn, his eyes narrowing in study. “Thranduil looks like he doesn’t want to be here.”

 

“He surprises me,” admitted Elrond, who smiled at Arwen when Aragorn guided her onto the dance floor to dance the first dance with her. “It makes me wonder if I ever really knew him.”

 

Celeborn nodded once. “I knew him very well when we still lived in Doriath. He was a charming youngster, a bit introverted, but very pleasant to have around. He was a quick study too.”

 

Elrond gave Celeborn a probing glance. “You were friends?”

 

“Good friends, but that changed on the slopes of Mount Orodruin. When he lost Oropher, he lost his mind as well. In retrospect, I understand his fierce reaction; Oropher was mother and father to him.”

 

Elrond nodded and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. “Look at him cuddling Remmen. I always wondered how it was possible that Legolas became such a caring, and warm person. But I am beginning to understand that we only saw one side to Thranduil – the only side he allowed us to see.”

 

“He raised Legolas extremely well,” agreed Celeborn, “Remmen is blessed to have such a…” Celeborn frowned, wondering how to properly phrase this, “Mother?”

 

Elrond chuckled softly. “Haldir and Legolas are very happy.”

 

Celeborn’s gaze remained with the Elf-Lord. “But Thranduil isn’t happy. He is alone.”

 

Elrond arched an eyebrow. “You do seem awfully interested in his well-being, my good friend.”

 

“I miss our comfortable friendship,” explained Celeborn, cocking his head so he could continue to study Thranduil when the Elf moved behind Haldir.

 

“Then why don’t you go and talk to him? Maybe he misses your friendship as well?”

 

Celeborn nodded; he might do just that.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Éomer’s gaze searched the large hall. Ever since he had arrived to witness the wedding ceremony he had felt eyes upon him and now he was trying to locate the source of that attention. Intercepting Elrond’s gaze, he nodded politely and then moved on, until his gaze came to rest on Legolas. The news of Legolas giving birth to a son had quickly reached Edoras and he had sent a messenger to convey his congratulations. He had been stunned to hear that the fierce Elven warrior had given birth, but had then accepted the fact. Elves were strange, mystical beings to him, and he simply accepted they were gifted in many ways.

 

Walking toward Legolas, he smiled brightly at him. Haldir instantly appeared at Legolas’ side, and Éomer easily caught the proud and possessive expression in the Elf’s hazel eyes. “Greetings, Legolas, Haldir…” He paused momentarily and then added, “And you, little one.” The baby’s brown eyes stared at him inquisitively and the fingers of his tiny hand unfolded as if reaching for him. “May I?”

 

Legolas nodded, and smiled as Éomer offered Remmen a finger. His son tightly clutched the digit with his small fingers and then cooed happily. “He likes you.”

 

“What is there to dislike about me?” said Éomer, teasingly, giving Legolas a radiant smile. A soft, warning growl emanated from Haldir’s throat, which made Éomer smile even more brilliantly. “Be assured, Haldir. I don’t begrudge you your happiness. You are very fortunate to have found such dedicated love.”

 

Haldir’s features relaxed. The fact that he felt extremely jealous when someone paid Legolas more than the usual attention surprised him, but it did make sense. He had just become a proud father and was ready to defend his mate and child and secure his territory. “I thank you for your kind words.”

 

But Éomer’s attention had already drifted away from the happy couple, and he was now wondering about the shadow hovering behind Haldir’s back. “Would you introduce me to your friend?”

 

Haldir and Legolas exchanged a look and then made their decision. “This is Thranduil,” said Haldir, pulling his father in law into Éomer’s sight.

 

Éomer’s heart missed a beat and he forgot to breathe momentarily, as he finally got his first look at Thranduil. “But he… Are you twins?” The expression in the emerald eyes worried him for some reason, which he couldn’t label. Something seemed off with the other Elf, but at the same time, Thranduil was also a divine vision.

 

Legolas chuckled softly. “He is my father… and mother.”

 

Thranduil swallowed hard at hearing those words, but millennia of keeping up pretence helped him compose himself. He bore Éomer’s questioning look with pride, and returned the Man’s gaze.

 

Éomer’s eyes widened. “But he doesn’t look a day older than you, Legolas!”

 

“We Elves age very slowly,” said Thranduil in a remarkably calm and emotionless tone. Although his feelings raged, he kept them from coming to the surface. The attraction he felt toward Éomer was growing deeper, more consuming, and for the first time since Remmen’s passing he felt passion – lust.

 

Éomer inclined his head respectfully. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Your son and I have fought side by side to defeat the Evil One and Legolas has gained my respect and friendship.” Hearing another growl from Haldir, he quickly added, “And so did Haldir.”

 

Amused, Legolas watched Haldir. “Down, husband of mine.”

 

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “Down?”

 

Legolas leaned in closer and whispered into Haldir’s ear, “There is no need for you to feel threatened. Don’t you know that I love only you?”

 

Haldir blushed slightly. “I have never felt this jealous before. It must be because I am a father now.” Remmen had released Éomer’s finger and was now tugging at Haldir’s silver hair. “I will behave from now on.”

 

“Good,” said Legolas, who turned to Éomer once more. “My father only arrived last night and these surroundings are alien to him.” He didn’t know why he was giving Éomer an opening. Part of him warned him that Thranduil wouldn’t survive losing Éomer, but another part told him to take a risk.

 

“I am a stranger here myself,” admitted Éomer, “Maybe we can explore the city of Minas Tirith together?”

 

Haldir gave Legolas an alarmed look. He had been under the impression that they wouldn’t encourage them. Then why was Legolas making it so easy for Éomer to move in? And now that he studied the Rohir more closely, he easily detected the Man’s interest in Thranduil. The Valar help them! This attraction was mutual!

 

“We could start with the gardens,” offered Éomer, who refused to pass up this opportunity to get to know the beautiful Woodland Elf. When Legolas had aimed that arrow at him, he had felt instantly attracted to him, but once he had realized Legolas was bound to Haldir, he had backed off, not wanting to meddle in a marriage. But Thranduil… /I wonder if he is bound./ He doubted it. Legolas would never allow him to make advances if his father was married. /What if Thranduil is still available?/ Overcome with lust and desire, he took a step closer to Thranduil.

 

Thranduil saw the new, added fire in the hazel eyes and knew what was happening for he felt it too; there was a sensual, sexual tension between them, which he had never felt before. It had been different with Remmen. They had courted one another for nearly a decade before binding themselves and making love. “The gardens, you say? Yes, I am interested in exploring them.”

 

Mouth agape, Haldir stared at Legolas in alarm, feeling the tension between Thranduil and Éomer as well. He didn’t interfere when Éomer reached for Thranduil’s hand and cradled it within his own. He felt paralyzed, as if some greater power was stopping him from meddling in this affair.

 

Legolas was under the same spell as Haldir, and felt unable to stop Éomer when the Man steered Thranduil toward the doorway. Once they had disappeared from his view, he regained control of his body and stared at Haldir in disbelief. “What happened just now?” Even Remmen had grown utterly quiet in his arms.

 

“I was unable to intervene…” Haldir shook his head, and stared at the doorway. “I can go after them if you like.”

 

“No,” said Legolas in a thoughtful tone. “I don’t know what happened just now, but I feel this is right.”

 

“But aren’t you worried your father will be hurt when…” Haldir didn’t want to finish his sentence.

 

“I share your worries,” said Legolas, rocking Remmen gently. “Falling in love with a mortal is ill-fated. Éomer’s life span is but a moment compared to an Elf’s. I am afraid what Éomer’s death will do to my father.”

 

“But we cannot stop him either. Something won’t let us intervene.” Haldir’s expression grew saddened. “He won’t survive losing another lover.”

 

“Lover?”

 

Hearing Celeborn’s calm voice this unexpectedly made Legolas and Haldir turn their heads to meet the elder Elf’s gaze. Something unreadable lay in Celeborn’s eyes.

 

“Are you sure that this is about love?” Celeborn’s eyes narrowed in thought. He had watched Thranduil and Éomer as well, but he had reached a different conclusion. 

 

“What else can it be?” Puzzled, Legolas stared at the elder Elf. The fact that Celeborn was taking part in this conversation surprised him.

 

“Lust…”


	16. Chapter 16

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 7

 

 

Lust. He hadn’t felt lust for millennia and now it burned him with a passion that scared him. Éomer had gained a tight hold on his hand and was leading him into the gardens – toward a small, artificial lake. By the Valar, what was he doing? Why was he giving into this sweet madness? Acting this impulsively wasn’t like him! When Éomer rubbed his hand, the skin immediately felt on fire, and Thranduil quivered with anticipation.

 

Éomer felt the same way. Never before had he felt such an all-consuming need to have someone – hold and claim him – and he would face anyone, fight and defeat any enemy that would try to keep him from Thranduil. Some sort of enchantment was at work, which neither of them could explain.

 

They had finally reached the lake side and Éomer pulled Thranduil close against his chest. Staring at the wide-eyed, golden-haired beauty in his arms, he slowly went down onto his knees in reverence. Bowing his head, he smiled when Thranduil placed his hand on top of his wild mane to caress it. “I don’t know what is happening,” he admitted, shakily.

 

Thranduil briefly looked down at the Man in front of him, and then knelt as well, cradling the other’s head with his hands. “I don’t know either what spell has taken hold of us.” Éomer’s hazel eyes met his and a surge of sexual energy made them both sway. “I have never been with a Man before, Éomer, and it has been a while since I lay with a male.”

 

Éomer cocked his head and adoringly stared at his Elf. The palm of Thranduil’s hand now pressed against his cheek and he rubbed his face against the soft flesh. “I have lain with my shield brothers after we fought, but I never thought I would ever draw the attention of such a divine being as you. You are a dream come true.” Boldly, he raised a hand and ran his fingers through Thranduil’s mane, only now realizing it lacked Legolas’ brilliance and silken feel. “I would claim you, if you desire it as well.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes took on an unreadable expression. “This is about lust, you do know that?” A lust that was rekindling his fire – his feelings.

 

Éomer nodded his head once. “I know that, fair one. But I would still have you.”

 

“So be it,” said Thranduil, leaning in closer and touching his lips to Éomer’s for the very first time. Energy surged through them at the contact and Éomer reacted at once by pushing him down until he was sprawled on his back on the grass.

 

Kneeling on all fours, Éomer loomed over Thranduil. He had placed his hands at either side of the Elf’s head and straddled Thranduil’s waist, feeling the hard evidence of his partner’s desire. “I have never acted this rashly before. I always choose my lovers carefully.”

 

“We aren’t lovers,” said Thranduil wistfully. “We are slaves of our lust.”

 

Éomer nodded in understanding and then repeated Thranduil’s words. “So be it.” Diving down toward Thranduil’s lips, he claimed them in a bruising kiss. Thranduil arched his back, and Éomer quickly slipped an arm beneath him. “You taste so sweet – of raspberries and cinnamon.”

 

Thranduil smiled lazily. “You reek of horse and weapons.”

 

Éomer burst out laughing. “Oh, I do!” Enchanted, he stared into Thranduil’s emerald eyes. His agile fingers cunningly dealt with the row of buttons that kept him from claiming his prize. Pushing the robes aside, he was rewarded with pink flesh, and his fingers quickly teased the nipples into hardness by rolling them between his fingertips. Soft mews escaped Thranduil’s lips and again madness seized him. Kissing the Woodland Elf deeply, he used his other hand to undo the lacing of Thranduil’s leggings.

 

Thranduil in turn managed to remove Éomer’s shirt and slid one hand into the other’s breeches. The Man moaned deep in his throat and a moment later, Thranduil slid down the breeches, revealing the other’s erection. His eyes widened briefly, and then he licked his lips in appreciation. “You may claim me, my champion,” he said wickedly.

 

Éomer had grown rather breathless, as Thranduil stroked him to complete hardness. Hovering above Thranduil, he panted heavily, seeing the emerald pupils dilate with lust. “Guide me.” His excitement was getting the better of him and he thrust blindly against the other’s lower body.

 

The lazy smile remained on Thranduil’s face when he reached for Éomer’s manhood. He spread the pre-ejaculate over the head, raised his hips and guided the Rohir closer to his target. Positioning Éomer’s hard flesh against his entrance he took a deep breath and then nodded once, giving his partner the permission he was obviously waiting for.

 

Growling possessively, Éomer slowly inched inside, knowing very well that he had to be careful due to the lack of oil that would normally ease his way in. “You… are… exquisite…” In order to soothe Thranduil, who was emitting soft mews of distress, he whispered compliments into the other’s ear and stroked the long, golden hair. “Almost there…”

 

He had forgotten what being taken felt like and Thranduil whimpered softly. Éomer paused, for which he was grateful, and he managed to steady his breathing. Once he was ready for more, he nodded again. Éomer slid the last inch in and was now completely buried inside him.

 

They remained frozen in time so they could savor the sensation of being connected in such an intimate manner. Thranduil was tight, and Éomer was afraid he might come the moment he moved, so he looked at Thranduil’s knitted brow instead. Realizing that the golden-haired beauty was in a considerable amount of discomfort, he leaned in closer and engaged the Elf’s already bruised lips in a passionate kiss. Simultaneously he slipped one hand beneath Thranduil’s left knee and supported his partner’s leg before thrusting that first time, and aiming for that pleasurable spot in the tight channel.

 

Emerald eyes – which had been closed in order not to reveal any discomfort – opened, and stared at Éomer in delight. Waves of pleasure, need and lust washed over him, and he tried to raise his hips in answer.

 

“Let me do the work. Enjoy this, my fair one.” Éomer was determined to give Thranduil as much pleasure as possible and had instinctively realized his partner was weakened for some obscure reason. The need to pamper and strengthen him overruled any desire Éomer had to quickly find release and he promised himself not to leave his partner behind.

 

He slightly changed his position until he was able to support Thranduil’s other leg as well. He was deeply touched, seeing the trust and vulnerability on Thranduil’s face. For some reason the golden-haired Elf had completely entrusted himself to him, and Éomer vowed to never betray that trust. He set a slow, but pounding rhythm, and kept Thranduil in position whilst he thrust deeper into the welcoming body.

 

Thranduil stared into Éomer’s hazel eyes, and was bewitched in turn, reading trust and desire there. He couldn’t explain what was happening, their need to physically become one baffled him as well, and he was too tired to question their actions. This felt right, and his hungry soul soaked up Éomer’s body heat, and the Man’s desire to pleasure him.

 

He buried the fingers of his left hand in Éomer’s blond mane whilst his other came to rest on the Man’s buttocks, urging him to move faster and deeper. Éomer instantly obliged him, quickening their pace. He bit his bottom lip, and entranced, Thranduil watched the mortal move above him. There was strength in Éomer, strength, valor and determination. His climax took him by surprise and Thranduil yelped Éomer’s name when he found release.

 

Éomer continued to thrust, but in the end he succumbed to the contracting sensation that massaged his length. Coming hard, he buried himself with one last thrust and then collapsed on top of Thranduil, whose arms welcomed him – holding him close.

 

Emerald and hazel eyes met in wonder. Éomer quivered over his entire body, as an orgasmic sensation swept over him. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so sated before – but at the same time he felt weak, drained even. Awed, he watched as Thranduil’s hair regained its golden luster and a bright light seemed to shine from deep within his body. Eager to take his weight off of his partner, he reversed their positions and rolled Thranduil atop of him. His softened member slipped out of Thranduil’s body and he moaned keenly at the sharp loss.

 

Big, emerald eyes stared at Éomer’s hazel ones. Those ethereal eyes had gained another sensual dimension, which made Éomer wish he could grow erect and take Thranduil again. “I thank you for this gift.”

 

“No, it is I who should thank you,” replied Thranduil sweetly. “You rekindled the fire in my soul. Your fire burned me.”

 

Éomer wrapped his arms around Thranduil and gazed questioningly into the green eyes. “You are pleased then? I was afraid I was going too fast and taking things too far.”

 

“I am indeed pleased,” purred Thranduil softly. “You did well.”

 

A smug smile surfaced on Éomer’s face. “And I am more than willing to do it again.”

 

Thranduil purred, low in his throat. “And I am more than willing to be taken again.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A lone figure stood hidden behind ancient trees. Celeborn had followed them here and had lost himself watching their intimate play. He had ruthlessly ignored the throbbing of his own hard member and had focused on Thranduil instead. The Elf-Lord had realized why this was happening and had come here in order to protect Thranduil, should Éomer prove an inattentive and brutal bed partner. Thankfully his fears hadn’t come true. The two males rested in each other’s arms and he could clearly hear Thranduil purr his pleasure.

 

The sound brought a smile to his face. Éomer was just what Thranduil needed; the Man’s fire had burned him, leaving him glowing soft silver in the dark of night. Éomer and Thranduil probably didn’t fully realize it, but the Man had just given the Woodland Elf new energy. Energy, which Thranduil had lacked since losing Remmen. /I cannot give Thranduil what he needs. My love is calm, unlike Éomer’s lust, which is a torrential river. I will let Éomer have his way with you now, because you need him to grow strong again. But once you have fully recovered from your grief, you will be ready to move on, and then I will be there to stake my claim./

 

He had fought down his rising jealousy ever since seeing Éomer taking Thranduil. It had been in exactly that moment when Éomer had sheathed himself that he had realized his hidden feelings for the Woodland Elf.

 

/Celeborn, that realization comes just in time./

 

Galadriel’s wise and gentle voice caressed his mind and Celeborn raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been aware of her presence.

 

/You are right, husband-mine. Thranduil needs Éomer right now, but in time he will seek a new mate – someone to share his love and life with, and that won’t be Éomer. Their lust shines brightly, but will die quickly./

 

Celeborn’s frown deepened; he hadn’t realized Galadriel knew of his interest in Thranduil.

 

/You gave yourself away earlier when we talked./ An echo of a soft giggle traveled down their connection. /I released you from your marital vows. I could release you from our bond too./

 

/Galadriel, dear wife, you approve?/

 

/Would I set you free otherwise? Don’t give up hope, Celeborn. He will come to you eventually. Your love will shine brightly when he is ready to look into your heart./

 

Celeborn left Thranduil and Éomer at the lake side and returned to the feast before his loved ones could miss him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Éomer enjoyed the sensation of feeling Thranduil’s fingers combing through his wet hair. He had braved the cold water for the Woodland Elf, who had been determined to wash up before returning to the festivities. He had mostly agreed to this cold undertaking because it enabled him to stay close to Thranduil a little longer.

 

They had just left the water and now sat in the grass, giving their skin a chance to dry before slipping back into their clothes. Thranduil was seated behind him, and he allowed the elder Elf to braid his hair. “Won’t they notice my hair is braided now?”

 

“Does it matter if they notice?” Thranduil had seldom felt this free of heart before. It was like an enormous burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t exactly explain what had happened when Éomer had taken him, but his life had definitely changed. He felt stronger now – liberated. “I hope you don’t feel like I used you,” he whispered eventually.

 

Looking at Thranduil from over his shoulder, Éomer smiled reassuringly. “I gave you what you needed and you returned the favor. It was a fair trade.”

 

“One that completely took me by surprise,” admitted Thranduil, who had finished putting in warrior’s braids. Shifting his position, he was now able to study Éomer’s face at length. “I don’t know if this night will ever come again.” Once the feelings of ecstasy had lessened, he had realized they had no future whatsoever. “Oh, why do you have to be mortal?”

 

Éomer grinned. “I thought you would be more displeased with the fact that I am a Man and not an Elf.”

 

Gracing Éomer with a warm smile, Thranduil shook his head. “It is your soul that I see when I look upon you. I wish you were immortal though, for then we would have stood a chance.” He guarded his heart carefully now, unwilling to lose it to Éomer. “You would be the death of me if I allowed myself to love you.”

 

“And my hand is already promised in marriage. I will wed in two months.” Éomer gave Thranduil a thoughtful look. “I never expected to lay with someone during my stay here in Minas Tirith.” He was a loyal and faithful Man and loved his bride to be, but Thranduil… Thranduil had bewitched him. “Do you think we will ever see each other again?”

 

“How long will you stay in Minas Tirith?”

 

“For two more nights,” whispered Éomer, seductively running a fingertip along Thranduil’s bottom lip. “Will you meet me here again tomorrow night?”

 

Thranduil gave him a long and hard look. “Three nights of passion then?”

 

“Yes, three nights of lust.”

 

“I will be here,” promised Thranduil, once more under the spell of this magic that was drawing them close.

 

“And so will I.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada! Where have you been?” Legolas immediately marched up to Thranduil, but then stopped in his tracks, blinked his eyes and then stared hard at his father. The change was remarkable. Gone was the pale skin, dull hair and haunted expression. Little lights shone from the depths of Thranduil’s green eyes, and the bruised lips formed a perfect smile. All the signs were there and pointed him into one particular direction, but he couldn’t believe the conclusion he had reached. “What happened?” No, it wasn’t possible! His father wasn’t one who would lay with whoever struck his fancy -- in this case Éomer! But the ruby lips were swollen and bruised due to passionate kissing!

 

Thranduil gave his son a guilty look, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with admitting the truth. “Please don’t ask me to explain.”

 

Legolas’ eyes widened dramatically. “Ada!” Thranduil could be stubborn at times and he was afraid this time his father would really test his patience. “You were with Éomer, don’t deny it!” The emerald eyes darkened when they next fixed on him, and Legolas wondered why his father felt this defensive. “I am not blaming you or thinking badly of you! I am merely concerned he took advantage of you now that you are vulnerable!”

 

Thranduil lowered his eyes and sighed. “Legolas, please don’t make me talk about this.” He didn’t want his son to think badly of him for letting Éomer have his way with him; he just wasn’t certain how Legolas would react to hearing the truth.

 

“It was consensual, wasn’t it? He didn’t force you in any way, did he?” Legolas placed a hand on his father’s shoulder and used the other to lift Thranduil’s chin so the elder Elf was forced to look at him.

 

Thranduil’s pride showed in his blazing eyes at hearing Legolas’ tone. “I would never allow anyone to take me against my will! I can fight off a pursuer!”

 

Legolas involuntarily sucked in his breath; his father’s proud and strong tone taking him aback. Focusing on the expression in his father’s eyes, he took a step back from Thranduil. “What has happened to you?” The fierce pride, strength and soft light that shone from deep within his father’s fëa puzzled him.

 

Thranduil’s expression softened. “Legolas, there are some things that are private.”

 

“You never kept anything from me before!”

 

“I am not certain you will continue to look favorably upon me once you know the truth. Let this rest, my son.”

 

Legolas nodded, shakily, realizing Thranduil wasn’t going to tell him. “You cannot possibly love Éomer! You just met him!”

 

Thranduil shook his head and gently caressed Legolas’ face, running his fingertips along his son’s jaw. “This is a temporary love at best, my son.”

 

“Temporary, because Éomer is mortal,” realized Legolas, “Oh, Ada, I regret—“ But Thranduil stopped him from speaking the words by placing a finger across his lips.

 

“I regret nothing and neither should you. This is between Éomer and I.” Thranduil wondered how to make Legolas understand when he didn’t understand what had happened himself. “I cannot explain the sweet madness that took hold of us. It is in our blood and we acted upon it.”

 

Legolas cocked his head in question. “It isn’t my place to lecture you in this matter, but… Please guard your heart carefully. I don’t want to lose you to grief after all.” This conversation had a surreal feel to it. Only hours ago his father had been listless and disinterested in the people surrounding him. Now Thranduil literally radiated warmth and light. His father’s inner light had been rekindled and if this was Éomer’s doing, he was indebted to the Rohir. “Don’t lose your heart, Ada. His life span doesn’t compare to yours. You will be left heartbroken when he dies.”

 

“I know that only too well,” said Thranduil, soothingly caressing Legolas’ hair. “Why don’t you concentrate on Remmen and Haldir and stop worrying about me?”

 

“How can I possibly not worry about you?” said Legolas, disbelief obvious in his voice.

 

Thranduil smiled and then buried Legolas in a hug. “I love you, my son, but you have to stop worrying about me.”

 

Legolas slightly pulled back to study his father’s eyes. “Something has changed.”

 

“Yes, *I* have changed… am changing. Be assured, Legolas, that I am doing better.”

 

“You do look better,” said Legolas, musing absentmindedly. Thranduil was right of course; his father was old and wise enough to make his own decisions. But at the same time Legolas recalled the way his father had hurt when Remmen had died. Seeing Thranduil suffer that dramatically had instilled a great sense of protectiveness in him and it was hard to let go now. He still wanted to make sure his father was all right.

 

Thranduil just gave Legolas a look full of understanding. Legolas should be given time to adjust to this new development. “Come with me. We should join the others in this marvelous feast.” And maybe, he would catch another glimpse of Éomer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mithrandir’s gaze was locked on Thranduil, seeing the Woodland King had made his return. Noticing his old friend’s transformation, his gaze shifted away from Thranduil, scanning the hall until he happened upon Éomer’s drained expression. /Interesting – most interesting./

 

“You are brooding, Olorín,” whispered Rúmil into his lover’s ear. “What is amiss?”

 

“I am not certain anything is amiss,” said the Istar in a thoughtful tone. “Maybe everything is right for the first time in millennia – for Thranduil that is.” He caught another surprised look, which was aimed at Rúmil and him. The people of Gondor had looked questioningly at them when they had realized the nature of their relationship, but he continued to disregard their looks, knowing only too well what an odd couple they must seem.

 

“I will ride you tonight,” whispered Rúmil seductively, “I want to see your sky-blue eyes erupt with passion when you find release.”

 

Mithrandir nearly choked on his wine and then quickly glanced at his lover. “You are turning most wicked, my love.”

 

“Yes, and that is just the way you like me.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“They looked happy,” said Erestor, who leaned into the comfort of Glorfindel’s embrace. They had witnessed the couple retire to their rooms and after some encouraging cheering – mostly coming from Éomer, Glorfindel and the twins – everyone had left the corridor, giving the newly weds their privacy.

 

“It is good to see Arwen happy, considering the sacrifice she made,” agreed Glorfindel. He had drunk a little too much wine and was now pondering the situation of newly weds and his wicked brain was coming up with a lovely suggestion. They had reached the door to their rooms and the moment Erestor pushed down the door handle, Glorfindel swept him off his feet and tightly cradled him against his chest.

 

“What are you doing!?” Erestor yelped, grabbed Glorfindel by the neck for support and held on tightly when the blond carried him into the room. Next, he was deposited in the centre of the bed, and looking up at Glorfindel he found that his lover was quickly removing his formal robes. “What *are* you doing?”

 

“I am going to make you scream tonight,” Glorfindel said cockily. He had managed to step out of his robes, and briefly swayed as the wine went to his head. “Scream with pleasure,” he announced proudly.

 

Erestor held his breath when Glorfindel swayed dangerously and then fell face-forward onto the bed. Soft snoring erupted from beneath the Balrog Slayer, signaling he had fallen into a deep sleep. Erestor arched an eyebrow, wondering if he should be amused or offended. “You really outdid yourself today.” Rolling Glorfindel further onto the bed until the blond was resting comfortably, he gave his lover an amused look.

 

Quietly -- so not to disturb his lover’s sleep -- he undressed as well and then lay down beside Glorfindel, who in his sleep instantly snuggled up to him. Erestor wrapped his arms around the blond and curled himself protectively around him. “You owe me one night of unbridled passion, Glorfindel.”

 

“No…ted…”

 

Erestor chuckled softly. “You are very lucky that I love you, Glorfindel.” Glorfindel nodded against his shoulder and then slid deeper into sleep. Realizing that cuddling felt nice too, Erestor drifted into sleep as well.


	17. Chapter 17

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 8

 

 

Thranduil was unable to go to sleep for the reminder of the night. Instead, he took to the balcony, and wrapped himself up in a warm blanket – not because he was cold, but because he loved the feeling of being wrapped in something warm. His thoughts were with Éomer, and he was reminiscing on what had happened at the lake only a few hours ago.

 

It seemed like a dream to him, but his body was alive with energy, and thus the very proof that Éomer and he had indeed made love. “I wonder what happened.” He was at a loss to explain their behavior.

 

“Remmen, what do you think of me now?” Several times he had come close to entering the Halls of Waiting, but never had he reached Remmen’s fëa. Maybe his beloved had been allowed to return to Arda, maybe he still dwelt in the Halls. He just didn’t know. “I regret that I couldn’t stay faithful, but something took possession of Éomer and I. We were unable to stop it.”

 

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to stop it?”

 

Thranduil’s eyes widened in alarm, recognizing Celeborn’s voice. For one moment he thought the other Elf had sneaked into his rooms, but he then realized that Celeborn’s rooms were next to his, and the Lord of the Golden Wood had also taken to the balcony, thus hearing his words. Thranduil berated himself for being so careless as to speak aloud without first making sure that he was alone. “Those words weren’t meant for your ears, Celeborn.” He tried to sound cross with the silver-haired Elf, but in reality he was angry with himself.

 

Celeborn inclined his head in understanding. “But I heard them nonetheless, and it makes me wonder why you think that this is a bad thing. Wouldn’t Remmen rejoice for you now that you have found someone to light your inner flame? Haven’t you been living with the dead for far too long, my old friend?”

 

Thranduil rose from the floor, still tightly clutching his blanket and walked toward Celeborn. They were only a few feet away from one another, separated by the balcony. “Why would you say that? Don’t you know that Remmen is my life?”

 

“*Was* your life,” corrected Celeborn in a caring tone. “He was your life. He wouldn’t want you to mourn his passing for the rest of your life. He died defending Legolas; it was an honorable death. Let him go and allow yourself some peace of mind.”

 

Thranduil had tensed whilst listening to Celeborn’s words, but his tight muscles loosened when the other Elf’s loving tone registered with him. Celeborn wasn’t being unnecessarily cruel to him; the elder Elf was trying to help. “You would have liked Remmen.”

 

“I am sure I would have, had I been allowed entry to your lands.” Celeborn gave his old friend a forgiving smile.

 

Thranduil swallowed hard, recalling he had threatened to inflict serious injury if Elrond or Celeborn ever set foot on his lands. “I was mad with sorrow after my father died.”

 

“I know that.” Celeborn wished the balcony didn’t separate them, because he felt an overwhelming urge to fold his arms around Thranduil. “I should have tried harder to restore communication when Remmen died. When you didn’t answer my letter, I assumed you didn’t want my support. That was until Legolas told me that grief consumed you at the time and that you were unable to answer any letters. I took the easy way out.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes began to mist over with tears. “I have missed you, Celeborn. I considered you my best friend at one time.”

 

“Maybe it isn’t too late to rebuild that friendship? I am willing to try if you are.” Celeborn extended his hand, offering Thranduil his friendship. “It is yours if you want it.”

 

Thranduil carefully considered Celeborn’s words and eventually accepted the peace offering, placing his hand in the elder Elf’s. “I want it.” Celeborn’s radiant smile took him aback, and he offered a weak one of his own.

 

“Why don’t you tell me about Remmen? Maybe it will soothe your mind to remember your beloved.” Celeborn was considering climbing over to Thranduil’s balcony so they were no longer separated.

 

“And you will listen whilst I speak of the past?”

 

“Yes. And hopefully you will speak of the present as well. Remmen belongs in your past, Éomer in the present, and only the Valar know what your future will bring.”

 

Thranduil nodded slowly, realizing Celeborn was still holding his hand in his. “Would you join me in my rooms then? I have no desire to continue to talk here whilst the whole of Minas Tirith can hear us.”

 

Celeborn regretted releasing Thranduil’s hand, but he had to do so in order to join him later. He left his rooms, walked into the corridor and found the door to the Woodland Elf’s quarters already open. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and advanced on the lone figure, which now stood in front of the fire place. The flames created a red silhouette around the golden-haired Elf and Celeborn sucked in his breath, overcome by feelings of affection for his old friend.

 

“Sit,” said Thranduil, inviting Celeborn to make himself comfortable in one of the chairs near the fire place. Sitting down himself, he studied the elder Elf. They had been best friends once, and he now hoped they could rebuild part of their friendship. He needed friends right now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn carefully lifted Thranduil in his arms and carried the sleeping Elf to the bed, where he gently deposited him in the center. The golden-haired Elf had fallen asleep after talking about Remmen for hours. Celeborn briefly sat down and brushed a strand of golden hair away from Thranduil’s face. Smiling at the younger Elf, he leaned in closer and pressed a kiss on Thranduil’s brow. “I will wait for you,” he vowed calmly.

 

After rising from the bed, he headed for the doorway. He stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him, leaving Thranduil to his dreams.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Remmen is just as sweet as you were,” said Thranduil, pleased. The Elfling lay cradled against his chest and was obediently emptying his milk bottle.

 

Legolas and Haldir exchanged a smile. “Ada, why didn’t you have more children?” asked Legolas curiously. He had never thought about that before, but seeing Thranduil fuss over Remmen made him wonder. The fact that Thranduil grew pallid, worried him and he frowned. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Thranduil moistened his lips, suddenly feeling nervous. “We never told you – Remmen and I.”

 

“Told me what?” His curiosity was piqued and Legolas stared deeply into his father’s eyes.

 

“I am not certain I should tell you this,” said Thranduil, stalling whilst he helped little Remmen burp. The Elfling giggled happily and his tiny arms managed to grab hold of one of Thranduil’s braids. “Ah, now you aren’t so sweet,” whimpered Thranduil as Remmen tugged – hard! “What is it with Remmen and hair?” He had seen the baby do this before.

 

“I don’t know… But I can take him if you don’t want to hold him any longer,” offered Legolas, who now sat down beside his father on the bed. Haldir remained near the fire. Munching on some fruit, he closely watched father and son.

 

“Nah, I want to hold him,” said Thranduil, who had managed to free his hair from Remmen’s surprisingly strong hold.

 

“Ada, you were going to tell me why I am an only child. Don’t try to distract me.” Legolas was determined to find out the truth; it was obvious that his father was hiding *something*.

 

Thranduil released a deep sigh. “Are you certain you want to know?” He cast a hesitant look at his son, who firmly nodded his head. “I will tell you, then,” he said, giving in. “You are an only child because I died giving birth to you.” Unable to look Legolas in the eyes, he looked at the baby instead, immediately noticing that Remmen’s eyes were filling with sleep.

 

“You what? You died?” Legolas stared at his father in shock. “You never told me!”

 

“Remmen and I decided against telling you. We were afraid it would stop you from having children yourself.” Thranduil gently stroked Remmen’s tiny fingers, which instinctively curled around his thumb.

 

“What happened, Ada?” Legolas nervously bit his bottom lip, wishing Thranduil would finally make eye-contact, and when his father did, Legolas took hold of the elder Elf’s hand and squeezed gently.

 

“I continued to bleed after the birth,” whispered Thranduil, “The healers failed to stop it and Remmen panicked. I faced death when all I wanted was to hold you and love you.”

 

“But you survived!” Legolas needed more answers and he needed them now!

 

“I was extremely fortunate that Mithrandir was visiting. To this day I don’t know what he did, but he managed to stop the bleeding. I had lost consciousness at that point and had resigned myself to death when a bright light exploded inside my head, the next moment I was awake and in pain. I was weak... but alive.”

 

Legolas swallowed hard. “I never knew…”

 

“We didn’t want you to know,” whispered Thranduil.

 

Haldir had left his chair and had now taken his place at Legolas’ side, wrapping an arm protectively around his husband. He wondered if Legolas had been inclined to have Remmen, had the Woodland Elf known the truth.

 

Now that Legolas remained quiet, Thranduil continued, “I knew what risks were involved with becoming pregnant, but… At the time I wanted us to have a child. And I never regretted that decision. When Remmen died, I only needed to look into your eyes to be reminded of him.”

 

“That’s why I asked Haldir to give me a child after we fought at Helm’s Deep. I wanted a part of him to stay alive, even if he died in battle.” Legolas’ gaze shifted from his father to his husband. “I almost lost you, Haldir.”

 

“But I survived. I have you to live for.” Haldir leaned in closer and placed a chaste kiss on Legolas’ cheek. “Like Thranduil, I am strong. I don’t die that easily.”

 

That remark brought a weak smile to Thranduil’s features. “Do you blame me for not telling you? I honestly think it was the right thing to do.”

 

“You made the right decision,” said Legolas eventually, taking hold of his son and cradling him in his arms. “I might not have had Remmen otherwise.” Hearing Thranduil’s relieved sigh, he smiled warmly. “I should thank Mithrandir for his support. I must admit I always wondered why Mithrandir visited so often, and why he was your best friend for so many millennia. Now I know.”

 

“He was the only one I allowed close when Remmen died.” A sorrowful tone had slipped into Thranduil’s voice. “I was so glad to still have you when Remmen passed into the Halls of Waiting.”

 

Haldir was forced to release Legolas from his hold when his husband moved closer to Thranduil to fold his arms around him. Remmen was safe within their embrace and Haldir briefly felt redundant, uncertain what to do. He wanted to comfort them as well, but this was clearly a father and son moment. In the end, he settled for rubbing the small of Legolas’ back and being a silent support.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Éomer hurried to the lake and once he had arrived, he removed his clothes. Braving the cold water, he slowly waded inside. He had practiced sword play and archery during the day and was now intent on washing away the fine layer of sweat that had formed on his body.

 

He had replayed last night’s events over and over again in his mind, and he was still at a loss to explain the sudden attraction. It almost felt like they were being moved across a board like chess pieces and someone else was directing their actions.

 

Thranduil was fair – beautiful even – and even without this pull he would have been interested in him. He had been interested in Legolas when he had first met him, hadn’t he? But being unable to control his actions wasn’t like him. And Éomer felt out of control – utterly out of control.

 

“You are brooding… Why?”

 

Éomer spun around, ready to defend himself, and was shocked to find that Thranduil had soundlessly sneaked up on him. The Elf was naked, and his golden hair danced on the water surface. The no longer dull eyes sparkled with green fire and a lazy sensuality radiated from deep within the ethereal being. “I didn’t hear you approach.”

 

“You were lost in thought.” Thranduil folded one arm around Éomer’s waist and turned him in the half-embrace until they were face to face. “What troubles you so?”

 

Éomer cocked his head – entranced by the eternal beauty so close to him. “I don’t wish to speak of my troubled thoughts. Instead I wish to make love to you.” Last night Thranduil had been most eager to be taken and he wondered what the Elf’s desire was tonight. “Or would you rather have me? I wouldn’t deny you.”

 

“Your offer is very tempting,” said Thranduil in a thoughtful voice, “but I prefer for you to take me again – or you could let me take myself riding you.”

 

“I like that idea very much,” purred Éomer in satisfaction. He completed the embrace by sliding his hands downward to cup the Elf’s buttocks in his hands, lifting his temporary lover. Carrying him out of the water, he made sure he maintained a tight hold on Thranduil. Silver water droplets hugged the rosy skin, and Éomer growled hungrily. First he placed Thranduil on the grass, and then he sat down himself. “I brought oil tonight.” He quickly uncovered the glass phial and gave Thranduil a smug grin. “I hope I didn’t leave you sore last night. That was never my intent.”

 

“Elves are fast healers. I hardly suffered any discomfort.” Thranduil placed both hands on Éomer’s chest and pushed him flat on his back. “There are some advantages to being naked right from the start.” Licking his bottom lip provocatively, he straddled Éomer’s hips. “Impressive,” he whispered, complimenting the Man as his member grew erect.

 

“I am always eager to please.” Éomer was more than happy to return the teasing. Lazily sprawled on the grass, he was content to let Thranduil do whatever he wanted. “You really are a dream come true.” And that was probably what Thranduil would be after these three nights had passed – nothing but a distant dream.

 

Thranduil bent forward, letting his hair caress Éomer’s naked chest. The Man’s nipples immediately rose to hardness and Éomer arched beneath him. “Very eager, indeed.”

 

Éomer raised his hips the moment Thranduil’s lips touched the head of his erection. A moist, talented tongue swirled around the slit, and the divine sensation made him moan deliriously.

 

Thranduil enjoyed being the active one in their play. It was in his nature to tease and please, but at the same time he also liked to be in control. That way he could give his partner as much pleasure as possible. Sliding one hand beneath Éomer’s buttocks, he kneaded the firm mounds of flesh.

 

The moment Thranduil finally closed his lips over the head of his throbbing member Éomer threw back his head and moaned needily. His breathing became too quick, and he pushed himself up on one elbow so he could see Thranduil’s bobbing head, as the golden-haired Elf relaxed his throat, taking his entire length. “Oh!” Éomer’s hand found its way into Thranduil’s silken hair and applied a minimum of pressure to tell his lover to quicken his pace. But Thranduil shook off his hand and gave him a wicked look.

 

“Not yet, my beloved mortal. I want you to reach your climax when inside me.” Using some of the oil Éomer had brought, Thranduil coated the enflamed flesh. “Let me ride you.”

 

Éomer nodded and a feverish expression appeared in his eyes, seeing Thranduil slowly take himself. Lying back, he watched Thranduil take in more of him, and once his lover was firmly seated in his lap, Éomer thrust experimentally. That first thrust made Thranduil cry out in pleasure and it wasn’t long before Thranduil was dictating their pace, riding Éomer as if he were a wild, untamed stallion.

 

Éomer had never seen such a bewitching sight before. Ithil had left the cover of the clouds and now showered them with silver light. Thranduil’s hair had taken on a mithril color and his skin shone silver. In the emerald eyes burned a thousand silver lights, and Éomer was unable to look away from this magical creature. Running his hands up and down Thranduil’s sides, he eventually curled his fingers around his lover’s already weeping member, as he didn’t want Thranduil to stay behind.

 

The manipulation proved too much for Thranduil, who threw back his head, yelping and quivering with passion when he finally found release. Warm cream dripped onto Éomer’s flat abdomen and Thranduil mumbled unintelligibly, rocking slowly atop of his lover.

 

Éomer followed Thranduil into ecstasy, purring softly when he reached completion. His wide eyes fastened on Thranduil, who seemed even more beautiful, bathed in silver light. “Oh, I wish I could love you!” But he was mortal and Thranduil wasn’t. Allowing this to grow into love was folly.

 

Thranduil’s expression became rueful in understanding. “I wished you were immortal, Éomer.” Éomer’s arms enfolded him and he followed willingly when the Man pulled him close. Stretching on top of Éomer, he folded one arm around the Man. Resting his head on Éomer’s chest, his fingers idly played with the Man’s chest hair. “This is most curious,” he commented, twirling some hair around a fingertip.

 

Éomer arched an eyebrow; he had noticed that Thranduil’s body was without hair, save for the golden mane that now teased against his face. “Will you join me again tomorrow night?”

 

“Yes,” said Thranduil, raising his head so he could look into Éomer’s hazel eyes. “And if you permit it I would like to claim you in our last night together.”

 

“But of course. I would very much like that.” Éomer ran his fingertips along Thranduil’s jaw line and carefully claimed the bruised lips. They were soft beyond comprehension and he had never tasted anything that sweet before. /And I will never taste them again./ This wasn’t about love – this was about lust.

 

Thranduil allowed him this one kiss – this gift – and smiled at Éomer in understanding. “We should be grateful for these nights and not want something we can never have.” Their destinies weren’t entwined and soon they would go different paths. /But we have one more night. One night for me to show you how much I appreciate and value your gift./ For Éomer was strengthening him and bringing him back to life. He could never truly repay the Man for relighting his inner light, but he could try.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond and Lindir had secured a nice, secluded spot in one of the smaller, more private halls in front of the fire place. They had decided against joining the crowd in the great Hall, where servants were still cleaning up the chaos the wedding guests had left behind. Elrond had already talked to the happy couple and was relieved the wedding night had progressed without complications. It was a good thing that he had made sure Aragorn didn’t have too much wine. Rúmil had tried to constantly refill the groom’s glass.

 

“This is a good place,” muttered Lindir, who was absentmindedly twirling a strand of Elrond’s dark hair. “A nice place of peace and happiness.” Minas Tirith had been quite different before Aragorn had taken up residence here, and the quality of life had definitely improved here.

 

“Look,” said Lindir softly, pointing at Thranduil who was passing them by, but not seeing them. Lindir stared at the golden-haired Elf in surprise. “He is recovering quickly, don’t you agree?”

 

Elrond’s eyes narrowed. “You are correct, beloved, and I wonder how this is possible.” Growing curious, he softly called out to the Elven King. “Thranduil? A moment of your time, please?” He wasn’t sure Thranduil would oblige. So far there hadn’t been any arguments between them about the past, but that could change quickly.

 

At hearing his name, Thranduil halted in his tracks and looked questioningly at the Peredhel. Why was Elrond keeping him from returning to his rooms? “Is something amiss?” Reluctantly he joined the other two Elves in front of the fire place, only now registering the comfortable, close intimate contact the two were in. So Elrond had taken a new lover? That surprised him; having heard through the millennia how much Elrond and Celebrían were in love. But then again, why should Elrond stay alone for the rest of his immortal life?

 

“Just a word, please. That is if you can spare me some time.” Elrond wondered at Thranduil’s mellow mood and decided to take advantage of it. “Would you sit with us?”

 

Thranduil nodded and took a seat on the bench next to them – but still distanced himself by sitting on the other end. He wondered if he could mention his surprise where Elrond and Lindir were concerned and decided to take the risk. “The two of you look happy.”

 

Elrond felt Lindir press closer and he tightened his hold on the minstrel. “That is because we are. Although I am bound to Celebrían to the end of my life I have spoken my vows, promising Lindir to love him until death. We won’t be separated.”

 

“Then you won’t sail for Valinor,” realized Thranduil instantly. He had heard of the twins and Galadriel’s impending departure and finding out that Mithrandir would sail as well had pained him. “You will stay?”

 

Elrond nodded his head. “Lindir and I will stay.”

 

Thranduil cocked his head and studied Elrond. They had parted in anger at mount Orodruin, but that anger seemed gone now. Maybe it *was* time to make a new start. “I won’t sail either. Legolas and Haldir will stay and so will I. I won’t be parted from my grandson.”

 

Elrond allowed a smile to break through onto his face. “That is good news.”

 

“It is?” Thranduil questioningly raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I had imagined our ‘reunion’ differently.”

 

Elrond understood. “Much has happened these last three millennia and the rumors brought into the world by the evil one distorted my ideas where you were concerned. It was a blessing that Legolas came to Imladris. It opened my eyes. For so long I remembered the angry and resentful Thranduil that had left us at mount Orodruin. At one point I stopped wondering if my thoughts reflected the truth.” Elrond moistened his lips, wondering if he should continue. “When we learned that you…” Oh, how to phrase this? “When we learned that you are Legolas’ ‘mother’, we were in shock, but it also explained why you were in such an emotional upheaval when Oropher died. The loss must have been immense.”

 

Thranduil rubbed his eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling. “I appreciate your honesty, Elrond.”

 

The smile on Elrond’s face brightened, hearing Thranduil speak his name free of loathing for the first time in over three thousand years. “I hope this truly is a new start for us – the three of us.”

 

Thranduil felt briefly confused. Lindir and he had never had dealings before, so why include… “You are talking about Celeborn,” he realized belatedly.

 

“I was under the impression that you were friends once,” said Elrond, treading carefully.

 

“Yes, we were – very good friends.” Thranduil then decided to do away with the past between them and accept the fact that Elrond might become a good friend as well, now that they were both trying to make this work. He needed friends and didn’t want to shut Elrond out of his life now that the half-Elf was making an effort to befriend him. “Celeborn and I talked already…”

 

“You did?” Elrond was truly pleased to hear that and bestowed a gentle kiss on Lindir’s long hair. “Do you hear that, love? This truly is a place of peace and happiness.”

 

Lindir purred softly and rubbed his cheek against Elrond’s shoulder. “I like it here. Minas Tirith reminds me of Imladris.”

 

Thranduil rose from the bench and excused himself. “I will see you later – at dinner perhaps.”

 

“I am looking forward to talking with you more.” Elrond had just seen a glimpse of an Elf he had never known before and he was curious to befriend Thranduil and learn more of this Elf.


	18. Chapter 18

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 9

 

 

“Marital life already becomes you,” said Éomer, smiling brightly at Aragorn, whom he had found seated on a window sill, staring into the distance dreamy-eyed.

 

“I am truly happy,” admitted Aragorn in a soft tone. “She is the other half of my soul.”

 

Éomer sat down beside Aragorn and stared at his hands, which rested idly in his lap. “She gave up her immortality to be with you.”

 

“Yes, she did. There was a time when I thought it was best for her to sail for Valinor, but this was her choice to make. I accept what she is giving me, but trust me, accepting her choice was hard.” Aragorn smiled ruefully. “Knowing she will linger here after my death pains me.” He understood why Elrond had beseeched him to let her go. But Arwen’s fate had never been his to decide. “We will be happy in life and who knows where our souls will travel after death.”

 

Éomer was reminded of his own temporary lover, but knew better than to mention this matter to Aragorn. “These Elves are mysterious, ethereal beings. They are beyond my comprehension.”

 

“I have lived with them for most of my life, and yet, their essence still eludes me,” agreed Aragorn. “But I have learned to trust their reasoning and instincts.”

 

Éomer briefly rested a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “I hope your marriage will be blessed with children shortly. I know you both desire them.”

 

Aragorn nodded his head once. “I would love to have children.”

 

“Twins maybe?” hinted Éomer, wickedly. He grinned, seeing Aragorn’s gaze darken.

 

“I would prefer to start with one child,” said Aragorn earnestly. “Twins might be too much to handle. I would prefer to be a bit more experienced before having twins.”

 

Éomer rose from the window sill, realizing Arien was beginning her descent. In a few hours he would meet Thranduil at the lake side – for the last time. After taking his leave, he headed for his rooms to bathe and change his clothing. Yes, Elves truly were lovely beings – and Thranduil was the loveliest of all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada? Are you certain that what you are doing is wise?” Legolas couldn’t deny that his father had made a miraculous recovery since he had met Éomer, but that didn’t take away his fear that Thranduil would end up mourning losing the Rohir eventually.

 

“Wise?” Thranduil shrugged his shoulders once. “Who knows what’s wise, my son?” He felt like he had no choice. Something or someone had guided him into Éomer’s arms and he savored the time they spend together.

 

“You do know that Éomer will shortly wed Lothíriel? The last thing I want for you is to be hurt.” Legolas was grateful that Haldir had volunteered to look after Remmen this evening, for he really needed to talk to his father – undisturbed. And Remmen had the habit of demanding most of his time.

 

“Yes, my son. I know Éomer’s heart belongs to someone else.”

 

“You seem… comfortable with this, which I just don’t understand.” Legolas shook his head. “I expected you to be devastated when realizing Éomer is promised to someone else.”

 

“This isn’t about love, Legolas,” said Thranduil, running his fingertips down his son’s cheek. “This is about something else. I cannot explain, but… It is almost magical.”

 

Legolas bit his bottom lip, still worried about the effect Éomer’s departure tomorrow would have on his father. “He will leave shortly.”

 

“Yes, tomorrow. He told me.” Thranduil caressed a strand of his son’s hair. “I am honored that you worry about me, pen-neth, but I know what I am doing.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil sat on the grass, waiting for Éomer. Tonight, he planned on doing things differently. During his wait, he had discovered a cave near the lake, and he had decided to take Éomer there. Although he wasn’t particularly fond of caves, this one he liked, because there was a crevice in the ceiling, allowing him to gaze at the starlit night. Soft raindrops were beginning to fall and the crystal like liquid nestled possessively in his hair.

 

Éomer came to a halt to savor the lovely sight that Thranduil presented. His heart briefly faltered, but then steadied. He would have given his kingdom and his soul to be immortal and to be able to spend the rest of his life with the golden-haired Elf.

 

Thranduil had noticed Éomer’s arrival, but didn’t act yet. He just smiled when the Man sat on his heels beside him, studying him closely. “The expression in your eyes is different tonight, Éomer King.”

 

Éomer grinned at being addressed in that way. “And you become increasingly wicked each time we meet, sire.” Things felt different between them tonight. It stemmed from the knowledge that this was their last time together and that realization made this gathering even more special. “I will miss you when I return to my lands.”

 

“I cannot come with you,” said Thranduil in a sad tone. “You know that we aren’t meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”

 

“My heart is heavy because of that, but I won’t fight fate.”

 

Thranduil gracefully rose from the floor, and extended his hand, which Éomer eagerly took into his. “Come with me, my mortal beloved.”

 

Éomer followed Thranduil’s lead and was delighted to be guided out of the rain. Once inside the cave, he found that his Elven lover had already built a small fire there. “This is the perfect place to make love.”

 

“I am glad you approve,” chuckled Thranduil softly. His fingers were already busy undoing the buttons of Éomer’s tunic and he leaned in closer, gently claiming the Man’s lips. He wanted to go slow tonight and reward Éomer for the life energy the Man had given him. “Do you know what happened these last two nights?”

 

“Yes, you drove me out of my mind.” Éomer greedily accepted and deepened the kiss, but then realized he liked it when Thranduil dictated their actions and gave control back to the Elven King.

 

“That’s only part of it. Don’t you feel drained, Éomer?” Thranduil saw the brilliant shine in Éomer’s hazel eyes and just knew the Man had no idea he had given him part of his life energy.

 

“Drained?” A cheeky grin spread across Éomer’s features. “Drained after loving you? Yes.” He rested a hand at the small of Thranduil’s back, wishing the other would finally undress and touch him. But the golden-haired Elf seemed to want to talk first.

 

Thranduil gave Éomer a long and probing look. “You really don’t know you have been strengthening me these last two nights? Haven’t you seen the difference in me? The change you caused?”

 

Éomer frowned. “I did notice a change in you – a transformation. You are stronger than you were two nights ago. Your hair shines golden again and your eyes sparkle like emeralds. They were quite dead when I happened upon you that first night.” His frown deepened. “And you say your recovery is my doing? How is that possible?”

 

“I don’t know,” confessed Thranduil in all honestly. “Normally a healing like this demands a close bond, which we don’t share. This does vex me. I cannot explain your ability to speed up my recovery.”

 

“Tell me more,” bade Éomer, sitting down on the ground whilst taking Thranduil down with him. Instead of trying to seduce the golden-haired Elf, he embraced him and hugged him close. The evening was turning out different from what he had expected.

 

“I cannot explain this,” repeated Thranduil. “But I feel like I have known you for millennia. The way you touch me – body and soul… That touch feels so familiar and it soothes me.”

 

“I feel the same way about you,” admitted Éomer in a heavy tone. “It is like I know where, how and when to touch you and kiss you. I feel like I already knew every inch of your body before I ever touched you.” His large, hazel eyes searched Thranduil’s. “It is like I know your soul.”

 

Thranduil nodded shakily. “What is happening to us? And why?”

 

Éomer gave Thranduil a warm smile. “I think I know *why* this is happening, but not what.” Seeing the golden-haired Elf’s wondering look, he continued, “I don’t mean any disrespect, but you were weakened when we first met. It seems to me you needed this…” he paused to search for the right word, “this liaison.”

 

“I wonder if this is merely a liaison, but I lack the right words to describe it.”

 

“We cannot solve this riddle, Thranduil,” said Éomer in a thoughtful tone. “But we can spend our last hours together in each other’s arms.” He wasn’t certain if Thranduil still wanted to make love to him. The Elf’s mood had changed during their conversation and he wanted to give Thranduil a way out.

 

“Oh, let me love you just once,” said Thranduil pleadingly. “Just this once.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

This time, Thranduil thought smugly, he was the one to exhaust his lover. Éomer was asleep in his arms, and the Man’s skin still shone with warmth and passion. He had taken his mortal beloved slowly, intent on returning the pleasure Éomer had given him these last two nights. To his utter delight, his Rohir had then snuggled up to him, falling asleep. So now he was holding the other close in his arms, warming Éomer with his own body, which had felt cold for so long – but no more.

 

“I still don’t understand how this is possible.” There was no bond between them – at least none he was aware of – and it was unheard of that a mortal Man could help heal an Elf. He had thought such a thing impossible!

 

Yet Éomer had been his salvation. The strength the Man had given him vibrated through his body, making him feel as alive and strong as on the day he had met Remmen for the first time. His body had also tingled with passion and love back then.

 

“I have no idea how this is possible,” he repeated, bestowing a chaste kiss onto Éomer’s brow. “But I do know that I owe you my life.”

 

Thranduil was finally able to let go of the ghost that had kept him company for so long. Cuddling up to Éomer in turn, he whispered against the Man’s chest, “Remmen, my love, I hope you have found some measure of peace in the Halls of Waiting. Please forgive me my rash attempts to join you there. I know now that Legolas still needs me and I don’t want our grandson to grow up without having known me. I want to stay here – on Arda. But I will never forget our love – I promise you.”

 

Éomer’s eyes, which had opened during Thranduil’s admission, briefly shone with an ethereal light.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“My Lord, I thank you for letting me help my love heal.” Remmen bowed deeply before Námo, the keeper of the Halls of Waiting. He had been worried that Éomer’s essence would somehow be damaged during the energy transfer, but the Man had never realized a thing and had enjoyed the nightly activities as much as he had.

 

Námo nodded his head once. Giving Remmen’s fëa permission to temporarily meld with Éomer’s being hadn’t been a hard decision to make. Thranduil had greatly suffered when his mate had been taken away from him, and he had allowed Remmen this chance. It had also set his private plans into motion. Plans, which Remmen knew nothing about. “Life has reclaimed your beloved; rejoice.”

 

Remmen’s misty eyes filled with tears of happiness. He had never thought Námo would allow him these three nights to strengthen his lover, but the Vala apparently possessed a romantic streak he had never known about. But this brief reunion with his love had caused him new heartbreak. He still loved Thranduil dearly and would give everything he was to be reunited with him.

 

“You must leave that life behind you,” advised Námo, who had seen the likes of Glorfindel nearly succumb to this longing. “But I will grant that your fëa be reborn, if you desire it.”

 

Remmen’s gaze sought out the Vala’s. “With my memories intact?” Námo had allowed that only once; when Glorfindel had been returned to Arda.

 

“Nay,” said the Vala, gravely, “You would have no memories of your former life. Allowing that would be cruel on my part.”

 

“Cruel?”

 

“You would long for something – someone – you can no longer have.” Compassion unexpectedly showed in the serious voice. “You deserve a new chance at life – and love.” The chill that normally lay in the pale, blue eyes now made way for understanding and sympathy. “You know as well as I do that Thranduil’s path takes him away from you. He is meant to be with someone else.”

 

“Celeborn,” said Remmen, feeling truly miserable now that his last hope at being reunited with his lost lover had been crushed. “But Celeborn is a good choice,” he admitted grudgingly. “The Lord of the Golden Wood will treat him well.”

 

“They are already friends,” pointed out Námo, “Their friendship will deepen and blossom into love.” He didn’t add that it would be a temporary love, for Celeborn’s destiny didn’t lie with Thranduil either. The two Elves would be companions – lovers – for some time, but not for eternity.

 

Remmen’s heart ached with longing, but then – unexpectedly – Thranduil’s words echoed in the Halls of Waiting.

 

“Remmen, my love, I hope you have found some measure of peace in the Halls of Waiting. Please forgive me my rash attempts to join you there.”

 

Remmen swallowed hard and gave Námo a wistful look. Both of them had despaired each time Thranduil had balanced on the brink of death due to his mourning. It had taken both their cunning and determination to keep Thranduil from entering the Halls.

 

“I know now that Legolas still needs me and I don’t want our grandson to grow up without having known me.”

 

Their grandson… Remmen had been touched to learn that Legolas had called his firstborn after him, and it was then that he had realized that he would always continue to exist in his son’s heart – even when he wasn’t there in body.

 

“I want to stay here – on Arda. But I will never forget our love – I promise you.”

 

“I know you will never forget,” whispered Remmen in reply – painfully aware of the fact that Thranduil couldn’t hear him.

 

“Thranduil has finally set you free,” said Námo compassionately, “You should do the same thing. You will always live on in their hearts and they will never forget you. Allow yourself a new chance at life.”

 

Remmen wasn’t completely convinced yet, but nodded his head at any rate. “You have my permission to embed my fëa in a suitable body if there is one available.”

 

Námo nodded once. “It will be done.” /When the time and circumstances are right. Things will happen as I wish for them to happen./ Remmen didn’t need to know the full extent of his elaborate plans. But the stage was now set and he could maneuver Remmen, Thranduil and Celeborn in the desired positions. Time was something he had in surplus and it didn’t matter to him that it would take centuries for his plans to come to fruition. But in the end, the Elf would be his.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

With a heavy and burdened heart, Éomer made ready to mount his horse. But then movement to his right caught his attention and he easily identified Thranduil standing in the shadows of the doorway. “One more moment, Aragorn,” requested Éomer, “There is someone I need to say my goodbyes to.”

 

Aragorn -- who had offered to escort Éomer as far as the border -- frowned, wondering who his friend had gotten so close to these last few days. His gaze followed the King of the Mark when Éomer stepped into the corridor and he was able to make out finely spun golden hair and shiny, green eyes. /Thranduil?/ Now there was a surprise!

 

Éomer had told him of his upcoming marriage to Lothíriel and Aragorn wondered about this newly formed friendship between Éomer and Thranduil. But none of it was really his business and he remained at a distance, choosing not to get involved.

 

“I thought you wouldn’t be here,” admitted Éomer in a nervous tone to Thranduil. To his surprise he had woken in his bed in his guest rooms and had reached the only possible conclusion, namely that Thranduil had carried him there after the night spent in the cave. The Elven King hadn’t been present when he had woken and he had been afraid he wouldn’t be allowed to say his goodbyes. “I missed you when I woke up.”

 

“I couldn’t stay,” explained Thranduil, “You *do* understand, don’t you?”

 

Éomer nodded, understanding that the time for parting had arrived. Even now they were stalling. “Thank you for these three nights of passion.”

 

“And I want to thank you for bringing me back to life.” Thranduil tenderly ran his fingers through Éomer’s blond mane. “I want to give you something.”

 

Éomer actually blushed. “You have already given me so much pleasure and joy these last three nights.” He shyly looked into Thranduil’s eyes, but then his gaze shifted to his right hand, which Thranduil was clasping in his. Unexpectedly, something warm slid down his ring finger. Puzzled, he looked to Thranduil for an explanation.

 

Thranduil uncovered Éomer’s hand and smiled. His fingers lovingly caressed the golden ring, set with sapphire, amethyst and ruby. Remmen had given it to him on the day they had spoken their vows, when they had still thought their love would last forever. For some reason it seemed very appropriate that Éomer should wear it.

 

Éomer’s breath caught; was it just his imagination or did tiny flames burn inside the stones? “It is exquisite, as you are.”

 

“You like it, then?” Thranduil smiled brilliantly, deciding against telling Éomer of the ring’s origin. “And I will understand if you cannot wear it in public. There might be questions.” Along with this ring, he was releasing the last, tiny part of Remmen’s ghost that had been with him for so long.

 

“I will always wear it,” vowed Éomer, “And I will tell everyone the truth should they inquire about its origin. I will tell them that it is a gift from a very close – very dear friend.”

 

Thranduil took a step back, realizing he couldn’t postpone their parting much longer. “May the Valar bless you and your line with long life.”

 

Éomer’s eyes were alive with emotion, feeling their parting as keenly as Thranduil. “And may you find true love again, my immortal beloved.” And there, in the shadows of the doorway, they exchanged their last kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Aragorn rode quietly beside Éomer, sensing his friend’s sadness and refrained from asking any questions. He had drawn his own conclusions when he had seen Man and Elf kiss. The ring at Éomer’s finger only confirmed his suspicion that feelings of passion existed between the two rulers, but he also knew that Éomer had an obligation to Rohan first. He would marry Lothíriel, sire an heir and rule Rohan until his death. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada?” Legolas saw the expression in his father’s eyes and quickly wrapped an arm around him, steering Thranduil toward the blanket, which Haldir had spread over the grass. Remmen was playing with blades of grass and daisies, which regularly escaped his slightly clumsy fingers.

 

Thranduil followed his son’s lead and sat down beside Erestor. The advisor and Glorfindel had joined Legolas and Haldir when they had told them they would picnic in the gardens this afternoon.

 

“We can leave if you require some privacy, sire,” offered Erestor, clearly seeing the distress in Thranduil’s eyes. The King seemed stronger, more alive, but at the same time there was sadness and sorrow in the emerald eyes.

 

“No. Please stay,” said Thranduil quickly. “I welcome your company. This is a day of rejoicing and happiness, and I don’t want to be alone.”

 

Legolas frowned at the reply, but didn’t comment on it. His father would tell him what was amiss when Thranduil felt the time was right to confide in him. In the mean time, he would be a silent support.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil alternated between looking at Legolas and Haldir. He had told them about his ‘liaison’ with Éomer because he knew that they would continue to ask questions.

 

“You spent the last three nights with him and then you let him go?” Legolas felt no small measure of disbelief at hearing his father’s words. Remmen cried out softly, demanding his attention and he soothingly rocked his son. “How could you do that? I would have been devastated, had I been forced to let Haldir go after three nights of passion!”

 

Haldir blushed, flattered, and moved closer to Legolas, wrapping an arm around his husband and their son. “I agree with Legolas,” he said thoughtfully. “I would expect you to mourn the loss.”

 

Thranduil shook his head. “I cannot explain what happened between us. It wasn’t about love – and not about lust either, as I thought at the beginning. It felt like I had known Éomer all my life and when we parted it felt right.” Thranduil briefly lowered his head, and offered Remmen a finger to play with, which the Elfling immediately grabbed and tried to pull into his mouth. Thranduil smiled warmly at the baby. “I don’t know why or how, but my heart feels light and free. Losing Remmen burdened me for so many millennia and I was never able to completely set him free. But I managed to do so now – with Éomer’s help.”

 

Legolas and Haldir exchanged a look. “Ada, if you cannot explain this to us then how are we supposed to make sense of it?” asked Legolas.

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t even try,” suggested Haldir, who was studying Thranduil extensively, still surprised at seeing the change in the elder Elf. There was life, energy and laughter in the emerald eyes; emotions which he had never seen this intensely displayed in those orbs before. The eyes were the mirror of the soul and Thranduil’s inner light shone brightly. “Maybe we should simply accept this and be grateful instead.”

 

Legolas maneuvered Remmen into a comfortable position and the Elfling now rested peacefully against his chest, still playing with Thranduil’s finger. “I thank the Valar for the gift Éomer has given you, Ada, and if you desire it I will stop questioning you in this matter.”

 

“Thank you, my son,” said Thranduil, gratefully, suspecting that this change would bring on many others in his life.


	19. Chapter 19

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 10

 

 

“Elrohir?” Magolion gave his lover an uncertain smile. The matter he wanted to discuss could easily cause a heated argument between them and he highly valued the peace and quiet between them – the easy acceptance and understanding.

 

Elrohir, seated comfortably in a large chair and reading a book, looked up at hearing the insecure tone of Magolion’s voice. “What is it, love?” He placed the book aside, and grew worried, seeing the hesitant expression on the dark-haired Elf’s face. “What did you do this time?”

 

Magolion knelt in front of Elrohir, slipped his arms around his lover’s waist and rested his head on the half-Elf’s knees. “I love you… You know that, don’t you?”

 

Elrohir’s eyes widened, worriedly. “Magolion, what did you do?” Such an unguarded expression of affection on Magolion’s part meant trouble.

 

Magolion lacked the courage to look into Elrohir’s eyes when he spoke next. “I don’t want to sail for Valinor yet. I am finally befriending Erestor and I want to remain close to him. I need to make amends for my soul’s sake.”

 

Elrohir released a relieved sigh. He didn’t know what ill tidings he had expected, but certainly not this. “So that is it? You don’t wish to sail yet?” Carefully he reached for Magolion, sliding a hand beneath his lover’s chin, lifting the face. Magolion was now forced to look at him and Elrohir involuntarily cringed, seeing the tears lurking in the other’s eyes. “What do you fear, beloved?”

 

“I fear a lot of things, but mostly I fear losing you.” Magolion shivered. “I know you want to stay close to Elladan and—“

 

Elrohir silenced him by placing a finger across the trembling lips. He parted his legs, and pulled Magolion in between them so they were as close as possible. “This is unexpected,” he admitted thoughtfully. “I cannot give you an answer right now.” Could he let Elladan – his twin – sail for Valinor on his own? /Not alone. Orophin will go with him, and once they arrive in the Undying Lands our mother will welcome him./ And then there was the fact that his father and Lindir weren’t leaving for Valinor either. Elrond had confided in him the other day, telling him that they would return to Imladris shortly. Elrond, Lindir, Erestor and Glorfindel would live there until after Aragorn’s death. Magolion and he could accompany them. That way he would remain close to his father and Magolion to his brother. “Let me think this over, love. I also need to talk to my father and Elladan.”

 

Magolion already felt relieved now that Elrohir was willing to give the matter some thought. At least his lover hadn’t told him ‘no’. “The ship sails in three days,” he said reluctantly. “I will let you sail if you desire it. I will never keep you here, bound by your love for me.”

 

“I know that,” said Elrohir quickly. “But I need to discuss this with my family first.” A frown appeared on his brow. “Did you already tell Erestor that you want to stay?”

 

“No, I wanted to talk to you first.” Magolion smiled, seeing the warm and understanding expression in Elrohir’s eyes. “I don’t deserve you, love.”

 

Elrohir returned the smile and buried his fingers in Magolion’s long, raven hair. “Yes, you do. You earned me a long time ago.” Leaning in closer, he ended their conversation with a kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn was bored; it was as simple as that. In the Golden Wood he had been needed to guide his people, but here was little for him to do. Aragorn and the servants pampered him, making sure he lived comfortably and he wasn’t sure how much more mothering he could take.

 

He had already assisted Galadriel and Mithrandir in preparing for their journey to the Gray Havens. They would leave in two days and Galadriel and he had already said their private goodbyes. That left him with nothing to do, which only worsened his boredom. He had even tried demanding some of Elrond’s time, but the half-Elf had quickly excused himself in order to be with Lindir. In the end, Celeborn slammed the door shut behind him and stepped into the corridor. “I cannot take any more of this!”

 

“Of what?”

 

Thranduil’s voice took Celeborn aback, and he spun around to look at the golden-haired Elf. “How do you do it?”

 

“Do what?” Puzzled, Thranduil abandoned the thought of returning to his rooms and walked up to Celeborn instead. He had known the silver-haired Prince for a long time, but then they had lost touch and he wondered in what ways Celeborn had changed. He found himself growing curious and wondered if he could find out.

 

“Pass the time! I have nothing to do! I cannot be idle the entire time! I need something to do!” Celeborn’s breathing had quickened, seeing and approving of the change that Thranduil had gone through. His next words slipped out unintended. “You are beautiful.”

 

The unexpected compliment brought a blush to Thranduil’s face. “Thank you, my old friend.”

 

/Friend… I want to be much more than just your friend./ His body was reacting to the other’s closeness and he nervously shuffled his feet, wishing the arousal would fade before Thranduil noticed his current, compromising state.

 

“So how do you intend to deal with this ‘boredom’?” Thranduil now stood in front of Celeborn and wondered about the other’s flushed face. Celeborn’s body radiated a heat that puzzled him, and although he wasn’t touching the silver-haired Elf, the heat still reached him and made his fingertips tingle with the desire to establish some bodily contact.

 

“I have no idea,” admitted Celeborn, who felt dazed, inhaling Thranduil’s slightly spicy scent. Why was the other Elf standing so close?

 

“We could spar, or ride on horseback. I haven’t seen much of our surroundings. I wasn’t that… lucid… when Haldir brought me here.” A hint of insecurity showed when Thranduil mentioned his arrival. “But I don’t want to impose, so if you have different plans—“

 

“No! I have no plans!” Celeborn reacted quickly. “I would like to spend some time with you, and get reacquainted!” He couldn’t possibly let this opportunity pass him by! He wanted to be close to Thranduil. That way he might get a chance to woo the other Elf – delicately and subtly. He didn’t want to appear too eager just yet. But unbidden lovely images invaded his mind, showing him Thranduil moving beneath him with a pleading expression on his face, begging him to allow him his release; a truly lovely and enchanting sight.

 

“Celeborn?” Thranduil arched an eyebrow, wondering about the distant expression in the elder Elf’s eyes.

 

“I was… distracted,” said Celeborn, hoping Thranduil wouldn’t inquire further.

 

“It looks to me like you are in dire need of some fresh air, my old friend.” Thranduil smiled, although he failed to hide the concern in his eyes. Celeborn was acting most peculiarly. Acting instinctively, he linked his arm through Celeborn’s.

 

Celeborn’s breath caught at the contact, and he chided himself for acting like an Elfling who had fallen in love for the first time. He was no shy Elfling! “Let us head for the stables and explore our surroundings. I need to feel the air against my face again!”

 

Thranduil nodded once, understanding his friend. He needed to be out in the open as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Erestor?” Magolion politely knocked on the door to his brother’s rooms, not wanting to simply walk in there.

 

“Yes? You may enter.” Erestor sat in front of the mirror, wrestling with his thick, long hair. After washing it, tangles had formed and there was one spot where even his long, agile fingers couldn’t reach. Frustrated, he slammed the comb onto the dresser, staring defiantly at his reflection in the mirror. “Where is Glorfindel? Why is he never around when I need him?” Glorfindel had offered Aragorn his services now that their friend was enjoying the first days of marital bliss and his lover wouldn’t return to their rooms until late this evening.

 

Magolion nervously said, “Maybe I can be of assistance?” Looking at Erestor’s reflection in the mirror, he caught his brother’s surprised expression at hearing his offer. “Only if you are comfortable with it, of course.” He had never offered his help in this way before and he understood that Erestor felt a bit suspicious. Gaining his brother’s trust would take time.

 

Erestor debated the matter privately and then nodded once. “There is a spot I cannot reach…”

 

Magolion sighed, relieved, and walked toward Erestor. He came to a halt behind his brother and accepted the comb when Erestor handed it to him. Gently – and very carefully – he located the tangled hair and began to work on it. Combing Erestor’s hair felt strangely intimate, and after removing the tangles, he braided the long hair away from his brother’s face. Occasionally he looked in the mirror to determine Erestor’s current mood. The surprise he felt himself was reflected in his brother’s chocolate brown eyes. “I am sorry that I never acted like an older brother.”

 

Erestor was momentarily speechless – caught up in the intimacy of the moment, but then he found the right words. “I have long forgiven you for that.”

 

“But I haven’t forgiven myself.” Magolion finished the last braid, tied the plaits with a brown ribbon and then moved in front of Erestor, leaning against the dresser. “I have forgiven myself for some things that I did to you, but…” Magolion felt incredibly vulnerable admitting this to Erestor, “But I am still haunted by memories of you running up to me as an Elfling and begging me to hold and protect you.”

 

Erestor sat quietly, listening, and hearing the guilt and regret in Magolion’s voice.

 

“Elrohir made me realize that I was lashing out at you because I felt hurt. But that is no excuse for the way I treated you.” Magolion shrugged once, growing uncomfortable under Erestor’s probing gaze. “I am doing my best to make amends, but it can never be enough. You were a child, whilst I had reached majority. I should have known better.”

 

Erestor gave his brother another long, hard look, and then slowly rose from the chair. Seeing Magolion’s suddenly alarmed expression, he raised a hand, hoping to reassure his brother. “It is all right.”

 

Uncertain what to expect, Magolion involuntarily held his breath when Erestor’s arms unexpectedly enfolded him in a loose hug. Erestor had never embraced him before, and his raging emotions overwhelmed Magolion, who was afraid to return the hug for it might make Erestor pull back. Instead, he allowed Erestor to hold him, and tuck his head beneath his chin. Gingerly, he rested his head against his brother’s shoulder and slowly – very slowly – brought up his arms behind Erestor’s back to complete the embrace. Erestor’s affectionate reaction stunned him, and he greedily accepted the hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, “Thank you for forgiving me.”

 

Erestor nodded, and swallowing hard, stroked his brother’s long hair. He would have sold his soul to have Magolion act in this manner when he had still been an Elfling in need. It was a terrible shame that so many horrible things had had to happen for them to reach this point. “You are forgiven,” he repeated, while rubbing Magolion’s back. “We are brothers and it is about time we started acting in that manner.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elladan?” Elrohir flopped down onto the bed, on which his twin lay reading.

 

Elladan looked up from his book, instinctively sensing something important had come up. “Is it Magolion?”

 

“No,” said Elrohir, shaking his head. “Magolion and I are very happy. It is something else; something that has to do with the two of us, Elladan.”

 

Elladan placed the book aside and sat up, crossing his legs beneath him. Elrohir’s gloomy expression told him that they were about to discuss something unpleasant. “What is that troubles you?”

 

“Magolion and I talked and discovered that we aren’t ready yet to sail for Valinor. We would like to stay here a little longer.” Elrohir moved closer and rested a hand on his twin’s knee at seeing his brother’s stunned expression. “I know that we agreed we would sail for the Undying Lands together, but I cannot. Not yet.” Giving Elladan a moment to compose himself, he remained quiet and waited patiently.

 

“Why?” Elladan’s eyes had widened and he shook his head in disbelief.

 

“Magolion is finally growing close to Erestor and he wants to build a similar relationship to what we have, my brother. And I… I never gave the decision much thought, as we had already agreed to sail together, but now I find that I want to stay too. In time, Aragorn will pass and our sister will be alone. Someone should be there to offer her comfort.”

 

“But our father is also staying!”

 

Elrohir moved closer and gathered his twin’s hands in his. “I know that you want to sail for Valinor. And I also know how greatly you desire being reunited with our mother. Although I also long for her presence, I feel that my time to sail hasn’t come yet. Elladan, I want you to do what you feel is best for you.”

 

Elladan frowned deeply. “Orophin wants to sail, now that Rúmil, Mithrandir and Galadriel will.”

 

“What does your heart tell you?”

 

Elladan swallowed hard. “My heart tells me to sail and be reunited with our mother. I miss her terribly. I never accepted the fact that she left and my heart is calling me home to Valinor.” A panicked expression shone from Elladan’s eyes. “But then we will be parted and I don’t want you to remain here.”

 

“I will sail for the Undying Lands when Erestor and Glorfindel will. Probably after Aragorn’s passing. We will be together again, my brother. This isn’t a separation for all eternity. It is only temporary. And what are a few decades to us Elves?”

 

“I cannot convince you to come with me?” asked Elladan in a pleading tone. He rubbed Elrohir’s fingers, trying to intensify their contact.

 

“I am afraid you cannot.” Elrohir looked deeply into his twin’s eyes. “I have to do this.”

 

“And I have to sail for Valinor,” said Elladan, pained. “Brother, promise you will join me in the Undying Lands. I cannot leave without your promise. I need to know that you will eventually join us.”

 

Elrohir reassuringly squeezed his twin’s hands. “I will sail after Aragorn’s passing; this I promise.”

 

Elladan released a relieved sigh, knowing this was the best Elrohir could do. “I wish you would come with us when we leave for the Gray Havens tomorrow. I am afraid that I will lose you to some accident or injury and that I will never see you again.”

 

“Dearest brother of mine, I won’t die on you.” Elrohir leaned in closer and pressed a brotherly kiss onto Elladan’s brow. “Don’t you know that I will always be here?” he said, placing a hand over Elladan’s chest – over his brother’s heart. “We chose to belong to the Firstborn, Elladan, and should we ever be separated in death I will wait for you in the Great Halls. This I also promise.”

 

“I never wanted to let you go,” said Elladan, managing a weak smile, “But in the end it is inevitable. I hope you will be happy here and do keep a close eye on our father and sister for me.”

 

Elrohir hugged his twin close and savored holding him. Although Elladan was the oldest by mere minutes, Elrohir had often felt his brother’s protector. “We will see each other again. I promise.”

 

And Elladan knew that those promises had to do.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil had enjoyed the time spent with Celeborn. They had explored Minas Tirith and its surroundings, and they had begun rebuilding their old friendship. When dusk came, both were unwilling to part just yet, and Celeborn suggested they have dinner in his rooms, instead of joining the crowd in the great hall. Furthermore, he didn’t want to prolong his heartbreak by seeing Galadriel one last time. His wife would depart in the morning, and seeing her again would only increase his anguish.

 

His instincts warned Thranduil that something troubled his companion, but he didn’t want to pry. If Celeborn desired to talk to him about this matter, the elder Elf would do so.

 

They had seated themselves comfortably, and waited for the servants to finish serving their dinner. Once the maidens had left, Celeborn cast a hesitant look in Thranduil’s direction. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

 

Thranduil wondered if Celeborn was giving him an opening for a conversation about what was troubling the silver-haired Elf, and he decided to take the risk. “You seem weighed down tonight.”

 

“My Lady sails for Valinor tomorrow,” said Celeborn in a heavy tone. “My heart is breaking in two. I tried hard not to give into my pain, but now that the time of parting approaches I can no longer deny my hurt.”

 

“Losing your mate after such a long time is painful,” said Thranduil slowly, recalling losing Remmen so long ago. He realized it was now his turn to open up. “Only recently did I stop clinging to Remmen’s memory. I still feel the loss keenly, but I am finally strong enough to take up the thread of my life again.”

 

Celeborn pushed his own anguish aside and focused on Thranduil – thankful for the distraction the younger Elf provided. “You have recovered nicely since you arrived here.”

 

“I have had help,” said Thranduil softly, his tone making it clear to Celeborn that he wasn’t going to elaborate on this matter. “You need to take the time to mourn the loss, but don’t lose yourself in your grief.”

 

Celeborn managed a weak smile. “Will you stand at my side, my old friend? We were good friends when we still lived in Doriath. Can we reclaim that friendship?”

 

Thranduil returned the smile. “We will manage.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor fondly looked at Mithrandir. “Ada?” Addressing the Istar in that way was becoming easier, but he wouldn’t have the luxury of addressing him in that way much longer, as Mithrandir was ready to sail for Valinor.

 

“I always knew this day would come, but I never thought I would leave behind a son.” His life had changed the day he had found out he sired a child. “I have taught you everything I know and you have gained tight control over your powers.” Mithrandir sighed deeply, worried now that they were about to part ways. “At least you have Glorfindel to watch over you.” He would worry about Erestor until the day his son joined him in the Undying Lands.

 

“And Magolion,” added Erestor in a gentle tone. “He is trying hard to be a good brother. The fact that he is trying to gain my trust and affection amazes me. He has come a long way.”

 

Mithrandir held Erestor’s right hand clasped between his, trying to postpone their parting. “I regret coming into your life as your father at such a late moment in time.”

 

Erestor gave the Istar a doting smile. “You were there when I needed you the most.”

 

“When Sauron tried to break you,” clarified Mithrandir. The words eluded him and he hugged Erestor close instead. “I will always love you, my son.”

 

“I know that, Ada, and I want you to know that you have my love too.” Erestor lingered in the embrace, but had to let go eventually when Rúmil came to claim Mithrandir.

 

“It is time we leave,” said Rúmil softly, understanding the sorrow of their parting.

 

As if on cue, Glorfindel appeared beside his lover, and folded one arm around Erestor’s waist. “I will keep him safe,” promised Glorfindel, meeting Mithrandir’s gaze head on.

 

Mithrandir nodded his head once, smiled and leaned in closer to press a parental kiss onto his son’s brow. “May the Valar bless you and watch over you.” Next, he moved on and touched his lips to Glorfindel’s forehead. “Be his champion, Glorfindel, and make him happy.” Tears lurked in Mithrandir’s ancient eyes when he allowed Rúmil to lead him away. Looking over his shoulder for one last time, he raised a hand in goodbye.

 

Erestor managed a smile, clinging to the connection that still ran between him and his father. Mithrandir had assured him that the bond wouldn’t fade – no matter the distance between them. Erestor leaned against Glorfindel, relishing the other’s close presence and watched Mithrandir and Rúmil walk out of his life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tears flowed freely at their parting. Elladan, Orophin, Rúmil, Mithrandir and Galadriel were finally set to leave Minas Tirith and join Frodo in the Gray Havens from where they would set sail for Valinor.

 

“Brother, don’t make me wait too long,” said Elladan in an emotional tone, giving his twin a last hug. “I will be there to welcome you when you do decide to join us.” Releasing Elrohir from his now death-like grip was something he only managed because Orophin pried his fingers loose from his twin’s tunic.

 

“Come with me, my love,” said Orophin softly, embracing Elladan tightly. “It is time to leave.” Orophin in turn gave Haldir a look filled with longing; displeased that their eldest brother wasn’t joining them on this journey. Haldir, Rúmil and he had said their private goodbyes last night; knowing that they would all be reunited in the future didn’t make this parting any easier. “Goodbye,” he whispered, pulling Elladan along with him, steering him toward the horses and escort, which were awaiting them.

 

Rúmil, letting his emotions run free, broke away from Mithrandir and hurried back to Haldir’s side, quickly bestowing a tight hug on his elder brother. “Be safe, Haldir.”

 

Haldir smiled weakly. “I survived Helm’s Deep, didn’t I?”

 

“Barely!” A tired chuckle left Rúmil’s lips, as he reluctantly pulled away from Haldir. Forcing himself to return to Mithrandir’s side, he quickly wiped away his tears, refusing to look over his shoulder at Haldir. He held on to the belief that he would see his brother again in Valinor – eventually.

 

Clearly sensing his lover’s melancholy, Mithrandir took Rúmil’s hand into his and held on firmly, lending the Galadhel all the strength he needed in order to deal with this separation.

 

Elrond clung to Lindir. The tears remained adrift in his eyes, as he didn’t want to shed them in public. Elladan looked at him from over his shoulder and Elrond nodded encouragingly. Knowing Elladan safe in Valinor would keep him sane when Arwen passed away. He prayed to the Valar that he would find the strength to comfort his daughter when her time finally came.

 

Elladan broke eye contact with his father and curled his fingers around the letter Elrond had given him for Celebrían. His father hadn’t confided its content to him, but he thought he knew what Elrond wanted to tell his wife. Elladan hoped that his mother could accept the fact that Elrond had found a new love and that when his father and Lindir sailed for Valinor, Celebrían would be able to welcome them.

 

Elrohir came to stand beside his father and wrapped an arm around Elrond. “We will join them in Valinor in time.” Watching Elladan mount his horse was one of the hardest things he had ever done and Elrohir reacted instantly, feeling his father tremble beside him. “He will be safer in Valinor than we in Imladris,” he said soothingly.

 

A lump of emotions had formed in Elrond’s throat and he didn’t trust his voice to hold, so he nodded instead. A cold, graceful hand slipped into his, and he opened his arms to gather Arwen into them. It greatly pained Elrond that his daughter would never see Valinor – would never be reunited with her mother and brothers – and that he would lose her to death eventually. “Weep not, my daughter. For Elrohir and I will stay with you until the very end.”

 

But her father’s words offered little comfort and Arwen wept against Elrond’s chest. Her gaze stayed with the riders until they had faded from sight, and she wished she had been able to see her mother one last time. But she had made her choice and had to find happiness in the here and now.


	20. Chapter 20

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 11

 

 

Celeborn firmly stood his ground, keeping his head up high and presenting a composed front to his remaining family members. Aragorn, who had stood beside him when the riders had departed, now advanced on his wife and guided Arwen back to their rooms where he could further comfort her.

 

When Elrond passed him by, Celeborn exchanged a glance with the Peredhel. Understanding showed in Elrond’s eyes, and Celeborn knew his son-in-law wouldn’t release his grief until he was back in his rooms. They were much alike in that way; hiding their emotions in public and only letting go when surrounded by their loved ones. “We will talk later,” he said gravely.

 

Elrond nodded once and then allowed Lindir to guide him back to their rooms. He let go of Elrohir when Magolion appeared to comfort his son.

 

In the end, Celeborn and Haldir were left behind, and when the silence became too heavy to bear, the Elven-Lord addressed his adopted son. “I will sorely miss them.”

 

“So will I.” Haldir longed to return to Legolas, who had stayed inside in their rooms with little Remmen. “But this parting is only temporary.”

 

Celeborn walked toward Haldir, rested a hand on the younger Elf’s shoulder and together they made their way back to their quarters, finding comfort in each other’s company.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You are welcome to stay if you desire company,” offered Haldir, seeing Celeborn’s lost expression. Maybe it would do the Elf-Lord good to be among close friends now that Galadriel had left.

 

“I would like that.” Celeborn had no desire to return to his empty rooms and he didn’t want to take up Thranduil’s time completely. Following Haldir’s lead, he stepped into the room, and abruptly halted in his tracks. A soft ‘Oh’, escaped him and he stepped aside to allow Haldir to close the door behind him. He had seldom seen such a lovely sight.

 

Legolas was on the bed, braiding his long hair, but the younger Elf wasn’t the reason why his breathing had quickened. On a rug, near the fire place, was Thranduil, sound asleep with Remmen tightly cuddled against his chest. Thranduil’s hair shone like liquid gold, and the flames added a red hue to the long strands. The eyes were vacant with peaceful sleep, and a content smile still lay on his face.

 

“I reckon my father didn’t get much sleep these last few nights,” said Legolas teasingly now that Thranduil couldn’t hear him. He finished the plait he was working on and then stretched like a cat, before rising from the bed to welcome his husband.

 

Celeborn swallowed hard, trying to do away with the lump in his throat. Until now, he had never imagined how Thranduil looked, holding a child in his arms, but now that he actually saw it, he thought it was a lovely sight. He had probably looked much like this when he’d had Legolas. “The mind boggles,” he whispered, barely audible. “I am still trying to accept that he can have children.”

 

Legolas nodded in understanding. “He does look peaceful – contented.” Casting a glance at Haldir, he found the hazel eyes foggy with unshed tears. “Would you like to walk the gardens with me?” With Celeborn and Thranduil present there wouldn’t be any privacy for them. “My father will watch over Remmen.”

 

“And I will watch over your father whilst they are asleep,” offered Celeborn, barely realizing the words had actually left his lips. He had merely intended to think them!

 

Haldir gave his adoptive father an inquisitive look. The last time Celeborn had sounded this – What was it? Protective? – had been when the Elf-Lord had pronounced the three brothers part of his family.

 

Celeborn actually averted his eyes, unwilling to risk Haldir reading the truth in them.

 

“We accept your kind offer,” said Legolas eventually when Haldir remained quiet. “We will return here shortly.”

 

“Take your time,” whispered Celeborn, sitting down in the rocking chair, as the door closed behind Legolas and Haldir. He would savor every minute of looking after Thranduil and Remmen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn left the rocking chair to collect a blanket from the bed. Tucking it in around Thranduil’s form, he sat down cross-legged beside the younger Elf, closely studying the vacant eyes. He was severely tempted to press a kiss on the golden mane, but he managed to restrain himself just in time. He couldn’t take advantage of Thranduil in that way.

 

/How do I woo him? How do I convince him that I love him? Will he even believe me? My dear wife just sailed for Valinor and I am already lusting after him./ But the well of passion had long run dry in his marriage, and although he valued and loved Galadriel as a companion, he didn’t desire her in that way any more. But he *did* desire Thranduil.

 

“You seem distant to me.”

 

Thranduil’s voice almost made Celeborn jump to his feet; he had never noticed the Elf waking up. “You are supposed to be asleep.”

 

Thranduil smiled, stretched, and moved Remmen in his arms. Sitting up, he cradled the Elfling against him. “Why are you here?” Celeborn was the last person he had expected to see in his son’s rooms.

 

“Those sailing for Valinor have ridden for the Havens and Haldir offered—“

 

“Say no more.” Thranduil’s eyes spoke of understanding, but he lacked the right words to convey his feelings. So he remained quiet instead, and simply smiled at Celeborn. Long moments passed until he finally broke the silence between them. “Would you like to hold him? It has been a while since you last held a baby in your arms.”

 

Celeborn nodded. “That was Arwen…” Arwen was the last Elfling he had held. “May I?”

 

Thranduil carefully placed Remmen in Celeborn’s arms and chuckled softly when the silver-haired Elf began to rock the baby. “You like children, don’t you?”

 

“Yes,” admitted Celeborn, breathlessly. “I loved rocking my daughter, and later my grand children.” He had always wanted a large family and when Haldir and his brothers had entered his life, he hadn’t hesitated to make them a part of his family. Lifting his eyes, he made eye contact with Thranduil. “May I ask you something very personal?”

 

Thranduil arched an eyebrow, and then nodded once, curious to find out what Celeborn wanted to know.

 

“Can you… Can you still have children… or?” He didn’t know himself why he had asked that question and Celeborn bit his bottom lip in embarrassment. However, he was relieved to see a grin surface on Thranduil’s face; apparently the question hadn’t offended the younger Elf.

 

“I think so.” Thranduil leaned back against the wall, watching Celeborn rock Remmen. “Why do you wish to know?”

 

“I am just curious,” mumbled Celeborn, softly – wondering about his own motives for asking. Why had he said that?

 

“Ah, I see…” But Thranduil’s eyes had narrowed, still wondering what had possessed Celeborn to ask that question.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I miss them already,” admitted Haldir in a pained tone. Legolas and he had settled down in a secluded section of the gardens. The trees that surrounded them moved their branches until the two Elves were completely hidden from view and comfortably cradled inside their wooden arms, which had become a safe nest for them. “I still remember a time when they were Elflings and depended on me.” The truth was that he had enjoyed fussing over them – even long after they had reached majority. “I feel…” The words failed him and he pleadingly looked at Legolas, who sat beside him, resting his back against the trunk of a tree.

 

Legolas moistened his lips, wishing he could take his husband’s pain away, but he couldn’t. He could only try to dampen Haldir’s anguish. “What if I let you fuss over me instead?”

 

Haldir smiled, touched. “You are a skilled warrior, my love. Why would you need fussing over?”

 

“Because I know you,” replied Legolas softly. “You need someone to fuss over. So I will let you take care of Remmen and me.” All these feelings of protectiveness, even possessiveness that raged inside Haldir needed a way out, and he was proving his beloved with one. “I will let you pamper us.”

 

A grin formed on Haldir’s face. “You would really let me?” His fingertips caressed Legolas’ face, and then slid down his husband’s throat, carefully touching the sensitive skin there. The anguish his brothers’ departure had caused was still there, but Legolas had cunningly redirected his attention. “I love you, Legolas.” Humming softly, he slowly unbuttoned Legolas’ shirt. Haldir pushed the fabric aside, revealing soft, pink skin. “I will always love you.”

 

Allowing Haldir to maneuver him into the desired position, Legolas gave in and lay down on his back. Longingly, he stared at Haldir, whose deft fingers were already undoing the lacing of his breeches. “Here? Now?”

 

“Let me love you.” Haldir liked his lips, leaned in closer and left a trail of kisses down Legolas’ hairless, smooth chest. “Are you certain you don’t wish to practice making another Elfling?”

 

Legolas smiled warmly. “I am certain. Haldir, love, we should wait until Remmen is a few years old before having another baby. Two might be too much to handle. And we have time.”

 

“Then we will practice making love instead,” said Haldir, whispering the words against the head of Legolas’ already hard flesh. “I know I will enjoy it.”

 

Legolas rested his hands on Haldir’s shoulders and gave his husband a long, hard look. The expression in the hazel eyes was unknown to him. He had never seen such tenderness – worship almost – in his beloved’s eyes before.

 

Running the tip of his tongue over Legolas’ erection, Haldir curled his fingers around the hard flesh. Intent on pleasuring his beloved, Haldir relaxed his throat and took in Legolas’ length. His fingers softly massaged the base and he cradled his lover’s testes in the palm of his other hand. Within seconds, he had Legolas moaning in need, and squirming beneath him. Looking at the golden-haired Elf, Haldir read many things in the azure eyes and one of them was the expectation of being taken tonight. But Haldir had different plans.

 

“Oh, no…” Legolas whimpered disappointedly when Haldir moved away from him, stopping the sensual stimulation. But his eyes began to twinkle with mirth and expectation at finding Haldir shedding his clothes. “Return to me, my love. I need your touch!”

 

Haldir threw his clothes onto the grass and straddled Legolas. Cocking his head, he studied the golden-haired beauty. “You mean the world to me, Legolas. You are my life; you know that, don’t you?”

 

“I am beginning to suspect as much,” replied Legolas teasingly, lifting his hips in a mute plea for Haldir’s lips to close over his throbbing erection again.

 

“So eager… and mine,” whispered Haldir absentmindedly, lost in admiration of the squirming body beneath him.

 

Legolas released a strangled moan when Haldir dove toward him. A moment later, a warm tongue swirled over the tip of his erection and soft lips wrapped around him. Thrusting upward, his fingers clawed the grass beneath him. “Oh, the things you do to me!”

 

Haldir grinned cheekily, shifted, and positioned himself above his lover’s shaft.

 

Finally realizing his beloved’s intention, Legolas bit his bottom lip. He looked expectantly at Haldir, and when his lover finally took himself, Legolas threw back his head in surrender, allowing Haldir to dictate the pace of their love making.

 

Haldir growled softly when he completed their union. From that moment on, they communicated via touch and thrust, and the sensations took them higher until they finally reached release together. Lips locked, tongues dueled and the air was heavy with moans.

 

When Haldir finally released Legolas’ lips and lay down beside him, he searched the azure eyes, and found them happy and content. Just the way they were supposed to be.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two weeks later…

 

 

Elrond, Lindir, Elrohir, Magolion, Erestor and Glorfindel were finally on their way home to Imladris. They had taken their time saying their temporary goodbyes to the inhabitants of Minas Tirith, and Elrond had promised his daughter and son-in-law that he would visit again shortly. In the meantime however, the Peredhel’s thoughts were centered on the Last Homely House and the few Elves that had agreed to stay until their ruler would eventually sail for Valinor. Elrond felt particularly blessed to have his lover, son and best friends close. If everything went according to plan, his servants had readied the Last Homely House for their arrival.

 

Elrohir saw the distant look in his father’s eyes and chose not to disturb Elrond’s thoughts. Instead, he looked at Magolion and smiled fondly at his lover. In retrospect, he had to agree whole-heartedly that it had been too soon for them to sail for the Undying Lands. Their place was still here.

 

Magolion returned the smile when he felt Elrohir’s eyes upon him, but his gaze returned to linger on Erestor. During these last few weeks, he had tried hard to truly befriend his brother and he was slowly making progress. He felt encouraged, realizing Erestor also wanted to make this work, and his younger brother was truly trying hard to deepen their new relationship.

 

Erestor was too focused on Glorfindel to notice that he was at the center of his brother’s attention. Last night, Glorfindel had finally given him that night of unbridled passion the blond had owed him, and Erestor vaguely wondered if his beloved Balrog Slayer still felt sore. Riding a horse for most of the day couldn’t be comfortable after Glorfindel had been on the receiving end of their lovemaking.

 

Lindir unexpectedly began to sing softly – a calming and pleasant melody that soon had everyone humming along. The minstrel enjoyed being on the road again.

 

All six Elves looked forward to finally arriving home again and were very startled when an infant’s wailing scream cut through the forest air.

 

“What?” Glorfindel stood in the stirrups, already trying to pinpoint the direction the wail had come from. A sobbing sound, bordering on hysteria erupted from the right, and Glorfindel took the lead.

 

Elrond and Elrohir followed, signaling for Erestor and Lindir to stay behind them, as father and son weren’t sure if they were headed for danger. The adviser and minstrel obeyed, though Erestor was a little peeved at being seen as defenseless. He should be riding up front as he commanded powers that could easily destroy any enemy. But he obeyed, trusting in Elrond.

 

Glorfindel’s breath caught at the horrible scene in front of him. Yes, they had done away with Uruk-Hai and Orcs, but wild beasts still lived in this forest, and by the looks of it, bears had caught a family by surprise, killing the parents. Glorfindel quickly dismounted and checked on the two adult Elves. Mother and father were dead and their souls had hopefully reached the Halls of Waiting by now.

 

Elrond arrived next at the scene and slid off of his horse’s back. He drew his sword, just in case the bears still lingered nearby and planned to return for the wailing baby.

 

The baby was bundled up in a sheet, and when Elrohir finally reached the sobbing Elfling, he quickly picked him up and cradled him against his chest. “Ada? What do we do?”

 

Magolion had decided against rushing ahead and had stayed close to Lindir and Erestor instead, as he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of this being an ambush and he wanted to be there to defend them if necessary.

 

Finally dismounting as well, Erestor advanced on Glorfindel, who was sitting on his heels, covering up the parents’ remains. “Are they both dead?” He read the answer in Glorfindel’s eyes and Erestor swallowed hard.

 

“There is nothing we can do for the dead, but we can attend to the living,” said Elrond, who now walked over to his son to check on the baby. “Is the child injured?”

 

“I don’t think he is. I can’t detect any injures on his body.” Elrohir instinctively held the child close to his chest. “Ada, what do we do?”

 

Elrond sighed deeply and looked about. It was true; they could do nothing for the dead, but the child needed help. “We will take him with us to Imladris.”

 

“And their bodies?” Magolion dismounted and came to a standstill beside Glorfindel. “We cannot leave them here. The beasts that killed them will come back to feed on them.”

 

“Bury them,” said Elrond softly. “And then join us again. Now that we have a child with us, we need to hurry.”

 

“Ada? Can you take him?” Elrohir had some experience handling children as Elladan and he had looked after Arwen regularly, but when their sister had still been small, Elrond hadn’t allowed them to hold her. The last thing Elrohir wanted was to accidentally upset the baby. Elrond had the most experience when it came down to handling babies.

 

Elrond had expected that request – and had also feared it. It had been millennia since he had last looked after a baby and he felt a bit rusty himself.

 

Erestor read Elrond like an open book and intervened. “Hand him to me, Elrohir. I will look after the little one.” The clearly audible sigh escaping Elrond’s lips made him smile knowingly. When the twins had been little, Elrond hadn’t known what to do with them. Once they had grown older, Elrond had become extremely fond of them because they would study with him. They had finally been able to communicate with him. Not many people knew Elrond felt lost when dealing with babies. Celebrían and he had often been called upon to care for the twins, and later Arwen, because Elrond had felt overwhelmed.

 

Elrohir arched an eyebrow, but complied and handed the infant to Erestor.

 

“He cannot be older than a few days,” whispered Erestor in surprise. “She must have given birth to him within the last week.” The boy already sported a few red-golden hairs and the most amazingly blue eyes stared back at him. “I wonder if she named him.”

 

“I am afraid that we will never find out,” said Lindir who now stood at Erestor’s side and tried to catch a glimpse of the child. “He will probably be hungry.”

 

“We don’t have any milk with us,” realized Elrohir. It would take them one more day at least to reach Imladris and that was if they rode nonstop.

 

“But we have some fruit,” pointed out Elrond, who moved back to his horse and uncovered peaches and oranges from his saddlebags. “We can make this into a mash and feed it to him.”

 

“Why aren’t Legolas or Thranduil around when you need them?” mused Elrohir aloud. “They know how to handle a baby!”

 

Elrond mounted his horse and signaled for the others to follow. Whilst the rest of the party mounted and steered their horses away from the horrible scene, Magolion and Glorfindel stayed behind to perform this last grim duty for their fallen kin.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor carefully spooned the mashed fruits into the Elfling’s mouth. “Please, little one, you need to eat!” But the baby’s listless eyes showed a clear disinterest in the food. It had been millennia since he had last fought this battle. Back then it had been Elladan who had refused to eat. Lindir knelt beside him and Erestor gave his friend a pleading look. “He needs to eat!”

 

Lindir nodded once and then began to sing a soft lullaby, designed to soothe the infant. It seemed to work and Erestor finally managed to spoon some of the mash into the baby’s mouth.

 

Elrohir and Elrond stood close, watching the scene with interest. “Ada? What do we do with the little one once we reach Imladris? There are no females left that can raise him.”

 

“Then we will have to raise him ourselves.” Elrond shook his head. Why had the Valar put this child in his way? He was much too old to be raising an Elfling! His gaze came to rest on his youngest son, and he wondered if Elrohir would be interested in assuming a parental role.

 

“Elrond? We cannot possibly keep him with us!” Erestor’s eyes had widened overhearing father and son talk.

 

“And where do you suggest we send him?” Elrond shook his head. “This little one should be raised by and among his kindred. Imladris is still a safe place and the best option.”

 

“We could send him to Legolas and Thranduil,” said Lindir softly. The fact that the child had lost his parents caused him grief, and he had instantly felt lost when looking into those big, blue eyes. “But I would rather keep him.”

 

“We can never replace his parents,” said Erestor, musing aloud.

 

“But we can be the next best thing.” Elrohir had closed his eyes, but they opened again when the corpses of the child’s parents appeared in his mind’s eye. “We cannot abandon him.”

 

Elrond found himself sighing again, realizing they were determined to keep the infant. “He will need a name if he is to stay with us.” Looking at Lindir, he saw the delight in his beloved’s eyes, and he just knew Lindir had already adopted the little one. Hanging his head in defeat, he realized there would be countless nights filled with the crying of an Elfling, getting up at impossible times to feed the boy and sitting in Celebrían’s old rocking chair in order to soothe the baby.

 

Lindir rose from the ground, hurried over to Elrond and wrapped the half-Elf in a warm hug. “Thank you.”

 

“You have no idea what you have just volunteered for,” whispered Elrond, still shaking his head.

 

“We will help,” said Elrohir, who tightly clasped Magolion’s hand in his. “And don’t forget you have the most experience when it comes down to tending to babies.”

 

Still shaking his head Elrond said, “That is where you are wrong. Erestor is the experienced one. He rocked the three of you when you were Elflings.” Elrohir’s eyes widened at this revelation and Elrond cringed.

 

Elrohir’s gaze fastened on Erestor, clearly seeing the ease and comfort with which the advisor handled the baby. “Ada, I never you knew you shied away from rocking us!”

 

“Erestor is a natural when it comes down to handling children,” said Elrond, somewhat defensively. Only then did he register Elrohir’s sly grin. His son had been playing him! “Oh, just wait until he starts teething! You can sit with him then!”

 

“Just ignore them, little one. They always argue. Just stay with me,” whispered Erestor, relieved that the baby now swallowed the mash willingly.

 

“Mother hen,” said Elrond, his eyes flashing with mirth.

 

Erestor arched an eyebrow at the half-Elf. Elrond had also called him that when he had helped Celebrían taking care of the twins. He calmly lifted his right hand, pointed his finger at Elrond and the Peredhel unexpectedly released a yelp.

 

“Why did you do that?” Elrond rubbed his buttock, where a small fire had teased his flesh. He was surprised that Erestor had used his powers in this way – and that the other Elf could control them so precisely.

 

“That will teach you to refrain from calling me that in the future,” said Erestor slyly. Focusing his attention once more on the Elfling, who was falling asleep, he whispered, “You lost your parents, little one, but we will do our best to give you all the love you need.”


	21. Chapter 21

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 12

 

 

Thranduil had offered to help reconstruct the last buildings that had been destroyed in the attack on Minas Tirith and was now overseeing the workers. Seeing that the Men were tiring, he called for a rest and sent them off to the kitchen for a meal. In the meantime he would explore one building which had suffered extreme damage when a series of fire balls had hit it. He had to determine if it was still salvageable.

 

Entering the house, he proceeded extremely carefully. The roof had come down and craters had been created in the floor. The building was very unstable and could come down around him at any given moment.

 

Thranduil realized he was in danger as long as he stayed inside the collapsed building, and judged it better to leave. He was about to turn around and head back to the doorway when a soft rumble within the collapsed roof warned him that trouble was afoot. He prepared to leap toward the doorway, but wooden beams and rocks unexpectedly crashed onto him, causing him to lose his footing and to slip into one of the deeper craters. The wind was knocked out on him, and he didn’t even manage a scream to alarm any bystanders.

 

He hit the bottom of the crater with a loud thud, and a sharp rock that landed on the back of his head caused him to lose consciousness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada!” Legolas, who had been resting with Remmen in his arms, sat up, startled and big-eyed. “Ada!” The panic that coursed through him rubbed off on Remmen who instantly began to cry loudly.

 

The door was flung open and Celeborn entered, quickly advancing on the bed. “Legolas? What is amiss?” He had been in his rooms when he had heard the scream and had hurried here, afraid that something terrible had happened to the baby. Why else would Legolas scream in panic? /But wait, he called out for his father! This is about Thranduil!/

 

Legolas shook like a leaf, grabbed Celeborn by the collar and stared into the Elf-Lord’s worried eyes. “It is my father. He is hurt, I can sense it. You have to find him!”

 

Aragorn, who had also heard the screams, now hurried over to the bed and sat down on Legolas’ other side. “What is it, my friend?”

 

“It is my father. You have to find him! Our connection is fading!” Legolas released Celeborn from his hold and tried his best to comfort Remmen, who was sobbing. “Oh, I am so sorry to have startled you, pen-neth, but…”

 

“We will find your father,” promised Aragorn, who now rose from the bed to follow Celeborn out of the room. “I know where to find him. He was overseeing some repairs and—“

 

“Please, Aragon, go… He needs help.”

 

Legolas’ pleading tone told Aragorn to hurry and alongside Celeborn he ran toward the construction site, eager to check on his best friend’s father.

 

/Please, by the Valar, don’t let his wound be mortal!/ Celeborn prayed fervently to the Valar to keep Thranduil safe. He had never thought this could happen! /I cannot lose him now!/ Thranduil had finally begun to seek out his company these last few days and Celeborn secretly planned to shortly tell the golden-haired Elf of his love for him.

 

“Sire!” One of the workers who had returned early to the site immediately addressed his King. “The building collapsed and we cannot find King Thranduil. He has disappeared!”

 

“He is inside that building!” Celeborn’s eyes blazed with fire. “Thranduil, I will get you out of there, I promise!” He removed his outer robes and was about to find a way inside the collapsed building when he felt Aragorn’s hand on his arm – restraining him. “Let go of me! He needs me!”

 

“We need to be cautious or we will end up beneath that pile of ruble as well,” said Aragorn, hoping to calm Celeborn down. He had seldom seen the distinguished Elf-Lord this upset. “We need to clear the debris away first.”

 

“Thranduil might not have that much time!” Celeborn shook off Aragorn’s arm and sought a way inside. Behind him, he heard Aragorn sigh and then footfalls sounded close. “What do you think you are doing?” He stared at Aragorn in disapproving disbelief. “You are King here! You cannot endanger your life in this way!”

 

Aragorn arched an eyebrow. “And you can?”

 

Frustrated, Celeborn released a deep sigh. “Be careful where you tread!”

 

“I can say the same thing to you.”

 

Celeborn glared at Aragorn; never before had he realized how stubborn the Man could be. But it was that stubbornness and single-mindedness that had defeated Sauron.

 

Moving slowly and hoping that no more of the building would collapse, they made their way over to the craters. One of them was blocked with a large beam. The wood was still shifting slightly, indicating that this was the place where Thranduil was buried. “We need to clear the entrance to that crater,” whispered Celeborn.

 

Aragorn nodded and grabbed hold of one end of the beam, whilst Celeborn began to lift it from the other end. Both were panting hard by the time they had deposited the beam on the floor, and Celeborn eagerly peered into the gaping hole. “I can see him.” Thranduil’s golden hair provided him with a perfect beacon in the darkness. Celeborn began to lower himself into the crater, ignoring Aragorn’s distraught expression. “I have to do this!”

 

Aragorn didn’t like this one bit, but allowed it, knowing that Celeborn possessed more strength and agility than he did. The Elf stood a greater chance of rescuing Thranduil. Looking to his right, he found that workers and soldiers were clearing their path, providing them with an easy way out once Celeborn would return with Thranduil.

 

Celeborn’s heart occasionally missed a beat, having lost touch with its natural rhythm in his worry for Thranduil. He jumped the last space to the bottom of the crater, and once his feet made contact with the ground, sat on his heels beside the unconscious Elf. He immediately checked for a pulse and was immensely relieved to find Thranduil alive. “I will get you out of here,” he vowed solemnly.

 

“Maybe this will help!” called out Aragorn from above, lowering a rope into the crater.

 

Celeborn took hold of the rope and considered his options. In the end, he carefully draped his unconscious charge over his shoulder. Holding on tight to the rope, he allowed the workers to pull him back to the surface.

 

Aragorn reached for Celeborn once the Elf-Lord emerged from the pit. Together, they briefly rested Thranduil’s body on the ground to check on him.

 

“Where is Elrond when we need a healer?”

 

“Don’t despair,” said Aragorn soothingly. “I am skilled in the art of healing as well.” His hands moved over Thranduil’s head and then descended to rest on the Elf’s chest. “We need to take him to the House of Healing where I can properly examine him.”

 

Celeborn nodded; part of his panic had faded now that he knew Thranduil was still alive. “Please let me carry him.” Aragorn’s eyes widened and Celeborn instantly realized what he had given away, but he didn’t care right now. All that mattered was that Thranduil got the medical attention that he needed.

 

Aragorn’s expression softened. “Of course may you carry him. Follow me.” He gave Celeborn a smile filled with understanding. He had often wondered about the Lord of the Golden Wood; Galadriel was impressive, maybe even intimidating at times, and he had wondered what it would be like to have her for a wife. He had seen the respect in Celeborn’s eyes when Galadriel was close and figured the love between them had long ago changed to mutual trust and admiration, as he had never sensed any passion between them.

 

Celeborn gently lifted Thranduil from the ground and cradled him against his chest. “Someone needs to let Legolas know that his father is alive.”

 

Aragorn nodded and instructed one of his guards to deliver the news to his friend. Legolas would probably join them in the House of Healing as quickly as possible and in the meantime, he would look after Thranduil to the best of his abilities.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Where is he?” Legolas, with Remmen tightly clutched against his chest, marched into the House of Healing in search of his father.

 

“Please calm down, love. Your father is alive, you know that.” Haldir was still trying to calm Legolas down, but to no avail.

 

“I need to see him!” Legolas frantically looked about. Remmen didn’t like the way he was being carried and began to cry softly. Legolas absentmindedly patted his son’s hair. “Hush now.”

 

“Give Remmen to me,” said Haldir, realizing Legolas was too focused on Thranduil to properly care for their son. He managed to pry Legolas’ fingers off of Remmen and buried his son in his protective arms. “Go, look for him!” He hadn’t completely uttered those words yet when Legolas already left his side to search the rooms.

 

Legolas checked one room after another and finally heard Aragorn’s voice. Using it as a beacon, he honed in on his friend’s voice and soon stood at the foot end of his father’s bed. “Ada!” Legolas hardly noticed Celeborn, who was seated on the bedside and holding Thranduil’s hand. Nor did he pay Aragorn any attention when his friend assured him that his father would make a full recovery. He only had eyes for Thranduil.

 

Thranduil had closed his eyes in an attempt to lock out the nausea and vertigo, but opened them at hearing his son’s worried tone. “Legolas…” He smiled tiredly and managed to partly lift his arm, beckoning his son to sit down.

 

Legolas sat down heavily on the bed and leaned in closer to carefully hug his father. “Oh, Ada!”

 

Aragorn smiled at seeing them reunited, but then voiced a warning. “Don’t hug him too tightly, Legolas. Your father has suffered two broken ribs and a concussion. He should rest for a while.”

 

Legolas carefully pulled back and stared into his father’s slightly unfocused eyes. “How could you be so careless?”

 

Using his last bit of strength, Thranduil sought out his son’s hand and squeezed it weakly. “It… just… happened.” He would explain later, once he felt better. Right now his stomach was cramping, and it felt like Orcs were trying to squeeze the brains out of his skull – and then there was that incredibly unpleasant pressure in his chest, which made it hard to breathe. Unconsciousness tugged at his mind and he was severely tempted to give in, as it would result in a healing sleep. “Talk… later…”

 

“You should let him sleep now,” said Aragorn, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Celeborn and I have watched over him since the accident and feel confident that there will be no permanent damage.”

 

Celeborn… Legolas’ eyes narrowed thoughtfully, finding that Celeborn was gently rubbing Thranduil’s fingers. Next, he examined Celeborn’s eyes, which gaze had never left Thranduil’s face. What he read in those ancient eyes surprised him. It was as if a veil had been lifted, finally showing him the elder Elf’s true feelings. Why had he never noticed it before? Because he hadn’t been looking for it. But there it was; love.

 

“Your father is stronger than he looks,” said Celeborn, more in an effort to reassure himself than Legolas. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of the injured Elf’s hand, even though it was earning him curious looks. “He will make a full recovery within the next few weeks.”

 

A bright grin and a soft glow shone from Legolas’ face, realizing his father had someone at his side who deeply cared for him. He had been worried when his father had fallen for Éomer, as the mortal could never be his father’s mate, but Celeborn was a whole different matter. Celeborn was an Elf, immortal, wise and experienced. The former ruler of the Golden Wood would be a worthy mate for his father.

 

Haldir appeared in the doorway, having finally calmed Remmen down, whose crying had worsened after Legolas had left. He cringed, seeing that bruises had formed at Thranduil’s right temple. The Elven King looked fragile and he expected Legolas to want to remain at his father’s side until Thranduil had recovered. Therefore he was stunned when Legolas rose from the bed and returned to his side. “Don’t you wish to stay?”

 

Legolas leaned in closer to make sure his words only reached Haldir. “I have the feeling Celeborn will watch him for me.” He suggestively wriggled an eyebrow, hoping his husband understood the hint.

 

Haldir’s eyes grew big, finally realizing what Legolas was implying. “Celeborn and Thranduil?”

 

“I don’t know my father’s feelings in this,” said Legolas, pulling Haldir into the corridor where they could talk more freely, “But the gaze in Celeborn’s eyes speaks of love.” Now that he knew his father was safe and well taken care of, it was easier for him to step back and let Celeborn take his place. “And I must say that he would make a good mate for my father.”

 

“Galadriel sailed only weeks ago,” said Haldir thoughtfully.

 

Legolas nodded in understanding. “But we don’t know for how long Celeborn has felt this way.”

 

“I have heard that Celeborn was determined to rescue your father himself, although Aragorn tried to keep him back.” Haldir soothingly rubbed Remmen’s back when the baby impatiently tugged at his tunic, demanding his attention. “Celeborn has always been like a father for me and I love him dearly…”

 

“But?” Legolas fell into step beside Haldir when they began their way back to their rooms.

 

“I also agree that he would make a good mate for your father, but I am worried about Thranduil. He has mourned losing Remmen for so long, then he had this… affair with Éomer and now Celeborn is interested in him in that way. I wonder what impact all this will have on your father.”

 

“My father makes his own choices. I don’t know why he gave in to the desire to be with Éomer. I thank the Valar daily that he isn’t mourning the loss, but… Maybe you are right. Is he ready to have a serious, committed relationship?” The grin that unexpectedly sneaked across Haldir’s features surprised him. “What is it?”

 

“We are already worrying about Thranduil and considering his future whilst we don’t even know if he returns Celeborn’s feelings. Your father never mentioned being attracted to Celeborn before. Maybe this is just one-sided?”

 

“Only time will tell,” said Legolas eventually, giving the matter some thought. “I do want my father to be happy and he seemed happy with Éomer. I liked it when he radiated happiness and contentment.” And if Celeborn could bring that to Thranduil’s life he would happily accept that, but the question was; did his father feel the same way about Celeborn? Maybe he could find out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Would you like me to carry him for a while?” Lindir gave Erestor a pleading look.

 

Erestor gave his friend a thankful smile. He had carried the Elfling in his arms for the last few hours and he was beginning to feel heavy. “But of course, my friend.” Erestor carefully placed the baby in Lindir’s arms and showed his friend how to properly support the tiny body. “He has been asleep for the last hour. Let’s hope he will stay that way.” The child had already proven that he possessed formidable lungs and Lindir had teasingly remarked he would make a good singer in time.

 

“The baby needs a name,” said Elrond, who rode at Lindir’s side, keeping an eye on his beloved and the Elfling. The child had golden hair, streaked with a soft red, and the sky-blue eyes gave him a slightly exotic look.

 

“How about…” Erestor paused, cocked his head and cast a triumphant look at Glorfindel, who together with Magolion had rejoined the party. “How about Collfindel?”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes widened dramatically. “Why that?”

 

“His hair is a red golden, much like yours, my love,” pointed out Erestor. “Or don’t you wish to share part of your name with the little one?”

 

“Collofin,” said Lindir quickly, anticipating the upcoming banter between Erestor and Glorfindel. The baby’s blue eyes opened and the Elfling gave him a surprisingly serious look. “Do you like that name, pen-neth?”

 

“I could live with that…” said Glorfindel grumpily. He didn’t really mind sharing part of his name with the baby, but he knew Erestor would find ways to mercilessly tease him with it. “Collofin sounds nice.” Cocking his head, he leaned in closer and gave the Elfling a warm smile. “Hello there, nice to make your acquaintance, Collofin. You chose a strange family to grow up in, I can assure you that. One word of warning; don’t ever think it is fashionable to always wear black. The color won’t suit you anyway and… Ouch! What was that for?” Pretending to be annoyed, he stared at Erestor, who had cuffed him on the head. “I was just trying to be a responsible parent!”

 

“Parent?” Elrohir gave Glorfindel a lopsided grin. “Parent? You?”

 

“I would do a great job as a parent!” Glorfindel, pouting, stuck out his tongue at Elrohir. “We raised you!”

 

“And look where it got me!” teased Elrohir wickedly.

 

Elrond cleared his throat, trying to restore some semblance of order. “Collofin it is.”

 

“And now we must decide who will be the baby’s main caregivers,” said Erestor thoughtfully.

 

“We will all help,” said Magolion quickly, finally seeing a chance to be a big and protective brother after all. Maybe he could make amends to Erestor by showing his brother that he was doing his best to help raise the baby.

 

“Yes, we will,” said Elrond, “But the child will need parents – role models.”

 

Lindir had studied Elrond for some time and had realized that his beloved really didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of raising another baby and he respected that. He did feel confident that he would get more than enough quality time with the Elfling without being the primary caregiver.

 

Elrond nodded once, feeling grateful, as Lindir’s face was an open book to him. His gaze shifted to Elrohir and Magolion, and although Elrohir smiled brightly at the baby, he didn’t think they were old and wise enough to be raising a child. Elrohir and Magolion needed to be lovers before they could become parents. That left Erestor and Glorfindel.

 

“Oh no… I don’t think so,” said Erestor, who easily read Elrond’s intention in the gray eyes. “I told you Arwen was the last Elfling I would help you raise!”

 

Collofin had woken up due to their talking and now opened his mouth, releasing a terrifying wail. Lindir, startled, stared at the tiny bundle in shock.

 

“Told you he had formidable lungs,” said Glorfindel deadpanned.

 

Lindir hadn’t expected such noise and stared helplessly at Erestor. “You take him! He was asleep in your arms!” He quickly placed the baby in Erestor’s arms.

 

Erestor cringed as the sound volume doubled. “This won’t work.” They had to find out who the baby liked best. “Elrohir, you try calming him down!”

 

Elrohir accepted the baby into his arms, but Collofin wouldn’t stop crying and Magolion tried his luck next, but… Collofin’s screams intensified.

 

Elrond shook his head when Magolion tried to place the wailing Elfling into his arms, so Collofin ended up in Glorfindel’s arms instead. The noise miraculously stopped. Five heads turned to look at Glorfindel and Collofin who now began to coo and giggle.

 

“Elbereth be thanked,” mumbled Elrond gratefully. “Glorfindel, you are now Collofin’s official caregiver. The baby chose you himself.”

 

Glorfindel swallowed hard – briefly shocked –but then his expression brightened and he gave Erestor a stunning smile. “Collofin, say hello to Nana…”

 

Erestor growled low in his throat, shook his head in warning and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Guess who is sleeping on the couch tonight.”

 

“Not us, are we, Collofin? You are a tiny Elfling and you belong in a bed. Can’t have a baby sleep on the couch, and as I am your caregiver I get to sleep in the bed as well.” Glorfindel smiled charmingly at Erestor and ignored the pained moans coming from Elrond. “I hope the couch will be comfortable.”

 

Erestor glared and remained quiet. In reality he was amused and delighted, but he couldn’t show that to Glorfindel, could he? It would take away the reason for their bantering. And he loved to verbally banter with his love. Seeing Collofin in his lover’s arms caused his heart to go weak. /Oh, I love you, you stubborn Balrog Slayer./

 

“Love you too,” said Glorfindel honestly, giving his love a warm look. “Always…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Collofin remained quiet in Glorfindel’s arms for the next hour, but then began to cry softly. This time it was Erestor who came to the rescue. When they had stopped to make camp for the night, he had gathered the remaining fruits and had made a mash for the Elfling.

 

“Erestor… He is crying… and he is wet.” Glorfindel’s nose wrinkled at the smell.

 

“Find me a piece of clean cloth to wrap him in,” said Erestor, removing the damp piece of fabric and disposing of it. Hearing fabric being shredded into sections, he looked up and found that Glorfindel was using parts of his own cloak to make a diaper for Collofin. “You were very fond of that riding cloak.”

 

“The little one needs it more than I do.” Glorfindel sat on his heels beside Erestor and together they wrapped the fabric tightly around the baby. “I never thought I would ever be doing this.”

 

“I feel the same way, Glorfindel. But the Valar have willed differently, and we cannot abandon Collofin, can we?” He settled the baby comfortably in one arm and began to spoon feed the little one. “What he really needs is his mother.”

 

“But she is dead,” said Glorfindel gravely. “And we are all he has left now. We need to make the best of it. You will be his mother,” added Glorfindel teasingly, trying to lighten the tone of their conversation.

 

“I am not his mother!” But Erestor smiled warmly at the baby, who obediently swallowed the mash. “You must be hungry, pen-neth. I am sorry we don’t have any milk for you.”

 

Glorfindel sat down beside Erestor and wrapped an arm around his love. “Can you imagine what his life will be like with us as his parents?”

 

Erestor leaned against Glorfindel and rested his head on his lover’s shoulder. “Elrond will claim him once the boy can read… and I have the feeling Lindir will teach him the finer arts.”

 

“I can see Elrohir taking him for a swim and reintroducing some of the twins’ mischief to Imladris,” added Glorfindel, giddily.

 

“And Magolion can teach him how to ride.” Erestor saw Glorfindel’s arched eyebrow and quickly added, “You are his father now, Glorfindel…” The eyebrow arched even more. “And yes, you may teach him how to use a sword.”

 

“And what will you teach our new son, love?” Glorfindel placed the now empty bowl aside and watched Erestor rub the baby’s back, trying to make him burp.

 

“I will teach him to love unconditionally,” said Erestor, giving Glorfindel a meaningful look.

 

“He will learn from the best then.” Glorfindel swallowed hard, knowing very well that he wouldn’t have made it without Erestor’s unconditional love. It was that very love and dedication that had overcome the hurdles thrown in their path. He was about to kiss Erestor when Collofin suddenly burped, giggled and grabbed a handful of Glorfindel’s hair.

 

“He has a thing for blonds,” whispered Erestor sensually.

 

“He isn’t the only one, is he, love?” Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor and the Elfling and didn’t let Collofin’s giggle hold him back from kissing his dark-haired love on the lips.


	22. Chapter 22

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 13

 

 

Now that Collofin had quieted down again, Elrohir pleaded with Erestor to let him carry the Elfling. Elrohir had been waiting for this opportunity for some time, and was delighted when Erestor gave in and placed the baby in his arms. “He is so tiny,” commented Elrohir, giving Magolion a thoughtful smile. “My father didn’t allow me to hold Arwen when she was still this young. He was probably worried I would drop her.”

 

“On her head,” supplied Elrond deadpanned. He had given the matter some thought and accepted an Elfling would rule his house for the next few years. His friends and his lover had already accepted Collofin into their hearts and being honest with himself, he had to admit to having a weak spot for the boy himself. But he knew better than to volunteer his services, having experienced long nights filled with crying and screams. Oh, no, he wasn’t volunteering to take care of the baby!

 

Elrohir gave his father an indignant glare, but then focused on the Elfling again. “I never thought Imladris would house a child again.”

 

“Imagine my surprise,” said Elrond gravely. “I was looking forward to spending the rest of my days in peace and quiet.”

 

Lindir unexpectedly chuckled, having long seen behind Elrond’s front. “Oh, you are just afraid to admit you like having a little one around, love!”

 

“Caught,” whispered Erestor in a wicked tone, and he gave Elrond a knowing look. “You will thoroughly enjoy having him around and you know it.”

 

Elrond pretended to mock and looked the other way, ignoring Erestor – who, of course, was right – he always was.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil opened his eyes slowly; a terrible headache tormenting him. If felt like his skull was being split into several layers. The last thing he remembered was falling into darkness after something had hit his head hard. Next, he drew in a shuddering breath, wincing when pain sliced through his chest.

 

“Don’t move about yet. Aragorn wants you to rest for at least two more days.”

 

That was Celeborn’s voice, registered Thranduil absentmindedly. His eyes slowly came into focus and he found the elder Elf seated on the bedside. “What… are you… doing here?”

 

“I am looking after you,” said Celeborn, finally allowing himself to believe that Thranduil would indeed make a full recovery. “Finding you at the bottom of that crater scared me. Don’t do that ever again!” He couldn’t help being cross with Thranduil for endangering himself in that way. “What were you thinking? Entering that building?”

 

“It was… a… mistake,” said Thranduil slowly, still finding it hard to think rationally. “Head… hurts…”

 

“Close your eyes and don’t talk that much,” advised Celeborn, who now placed a cool, wet cloth on Thranduil’s brow. “You took quite a fall. Had you been mortal you might not have survived.”

 

“Who… got me…out?” Thranduil’s eyes were half-closed, as he was unwilling to go back to sleep just yet.

 

“I did,” said Celeborn, who suddenly felt awkward. He fervently hoped he wasn’t blushing.

 

“You?” Thranduil’s rising eyebrow stopped half-way and he flinched in pain. “Why you?”

 

“Because I was worried and I wanted to take you into safety myself.” Celeborn moved slightly away from Thranduil, not wanting the younger Elf to read certain emotions in his eyes. “Legolas was here to visit with you. Do you remember talking to him?”

 

Thranduil stopped himself from nodding just in time, realizing it might worsen his headache. “I do…”

 

“He alarmed us, telling us something had happened to you. The two of you share a strong bond.”

 

“It has been there… since his birth.” Thranduil grew tired again and closed his eyes. “My injuries?”

 

“Two broken ribs, a concussion and a multitude of bruises,” summarized Celeborn.

 

Thranduil was about to give in to sleep, when he experienced a strange sensation. His hand… Someone’s fingers were tightly curled around it, holding on tight. But whose fingers… and why? Tightening his hold on the fingers, he heard Celeborn sharply suck in his breath. “Why?” he whispered, using his last energy reserves to open his eyes and stare questioningly at the silver-haired Elf.

 

Celeborn knew the moment of truth had arrived, but still wasn’t sure what to do. Looking into Thranduil’s hooded, dark-green eyes, Celeborn realized he couldn’t lie to him. “Because I care for you – deeply. I was afraid I would lose you!”

 

Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly, and he managed to ignore the pounding headache that nearly made him faint. This was too important! He had to correctly understand what Celeborn was telling him. “You…care? Deeply?” What exactly was Celeborn trying to tell him?

 

Celeborn moistened his lips, cleared his throat and then looked gingerly into Thranduil’s clouded eyes. /Please, Elbereth, I don’t want to scare him away with my admission, but I cannot lie to him!/ Celeborn drew in a deep breath and whilst releasing it, he whispered, “I love you.”

 

Thranduil’s breath caught – painfully – and he stared at Celeborn in shock. “You what?” He must have misheard!

 

“I love you,” repeated Celeborn, this time in a louder and firmer tone. “I love you, Thranduil.” The younger Elf’s shocked gaze should have been amusing but it wasn’t. “But you don’t love me, do you?”

 

“I…I…” Thranduil simply didn’t know what to say. He had never thought of Celeborn in that way! “Tired,” he offered eventually, his eyes closing again. “La…ter…”

 

“Yes, we will talk later,” agreed Celeborn softly. “You need to rest now. I exhausted you after Aragorn told me to make sure you rest.” Celeborn still rubbed Thranduil’s fingers between his. “I regret I sprung this upon you. I should have waited for a more opportune moment.” But he hadn’t been able to lie to Thranduil, and so the truth had been revealed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond felt relieved when they finally reached Imladris safely and immediately ordered the last remaining servants to search for any baby clothes they might still have. Celebrían had kept some items as memorabilia and they might come in handy now. He also instructed them to search for the cradle that had held Arwen and to place it in Erestor’s rooms, which earned him a glare from his chief councilor. “Erestor, please… You know that you are best suited to care for this Elfling. You did a marvelous job when co-raising my children.”

 

Glorfindel inched closer. “I will help you care for him. If you will let me, I will move my belongings to your rooms so we can be together.” He blushed weakly, catching Erestor’s pleased expression. “I won’t part from you ever again.”

 

Before Erestor could say a thing, Elrond issued the order to move Glorfindel’s belongings to Erestor’s chambers. “We need to be organized now that we are responsible for an Elfling. He may be quiet now but when he wakes the whole of Imladris will shake on its fundament!”

 

“Don’t be that melodramatic,” said Erestor, shaking his head. “He won’t be teething for a long time.”

 

Elrond had the grace to blush and gave Elrohir an apologetic look. “There was no way of calming you down. And Elladan cried the hardest.”

 

“He ran,” said Erestor, smugly, gently rocking Collofin in his arms. “He left your mother and I to sit with you.”

 

“Ada!” Elrohir shook his head in mock annoyance. “You disappoint me!”

 

“Just wait until Collofin starts teething,” said Elrond determinedly. “Then you will run too!” Gathering his riding cloak close, he turned away from them and entered the Last Homely House, leaving the five remaining Elves to their giggles and chuckling.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor gently placed Collofin in his cradle and then sat down, nodding gratefully at Glorfindel who had pulled a chair close for him. “I never thought I would care for an Elfling ever again.”

 

“Elrond is right, you know. You *did* a good job co-raising the twins and Arwen.” Now that he thought about it, he realized how heavy Erestor’s work load had been back then. As Elrond’s Captain, Glorfindel had taught all three children how to ride and wield a sword, but he had only entered the picture once Elrond’s offspring had neared majority. He had occasionally sat with them when they had been Elflings, but Celebrían and Erestor had done most of the work during the children’s formative years.

 

“Erestor, love, you don’t really seem to mind having him here.” Erestor’s gaze was trained on the Elfling, who had woken up and was trying to take in his surroundings. “You didn’t fight Elrond’s order to care for this little one very hard.”

 

Erestor moistened his lips and then looked at Glorfindel. “I am ready to raise Collofin, but are you? Are we? As a couple? Did we really deal with all the issues between us?”

 

Glorfindel swallowed hard, hearing the real question behind Erestor’s words. His lover was asking him to stand beside him and support him – unconditionally. “We will do this together, melethen.” Erestor’s soft expression made his heart skip a beat and acting on impulse, he leaned in closer and pressed a possessive kiss on his beloved’s luscious lips.

 

They would raise Collofin together and hopefully create a bond with the foundling that would help him deal with life’s problems when he grew older.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn had fallen asleep in his chair, which he had placed close to Thranduil’s bed. He had wanted to be ready to help once the younger Elf woke up, but he had fallen asleep himself whilst keeping his vigil. Finding Thranduil motionless on the bottom of that crater had shocked him, and sleep was the best way to recuperate. Therefore he was unaware of the thoughtful, emerald eyes that studied him.

 

Celeborn’s declaration of love had stunned Thranduil, who had never expected it. As far as he was concerned they had been best friends in Doriath, but he had married Remmen whilst Celeborn had found a lovely wife in Galadriel. So why had Celeborn revealed having these feelings for him?

 

/Maybe because Galadriel sailed west and you finally stopped mourning Remmen’s passing? Maybe because he instinctively knows you are ready to commit again?/ supplied a small voice in the back of his head.

 

A part of him couldn’t believe what Celeborn had told him. Yes, they had been best friends once, and there had always been an easy understanding between them, but both of them had always known their duty was first to their realms. But Fuinglad no longer needed a King and Lothlórien was also quickly emptying. Their realms were realms no more and no longer needed ruling. They could finally be just themselves.

 

A part of that concept frightened him. He had been Fuinglad’s ruler for so long that he wondered if he could simply be Thranduil instead. His musings however, were cut short when Celeborn moved about, his blue eyes filling with awareness. His suitor was waking up, and Thranduil wasn’t certain how to proceed where Celeborn was concerned.

 

Celeborn blinked once, slowly realizing his charge was awake. Pushing aside his questions and uncertainties, he concentrated on the younger Elf, relieved to find the pupils clear and focused. “How do you fare, my friend?” Would Thranduil bring up his admission or pretend the words had never been uttered?

 

“I am…confused,” said Thranduil, thoughtfully. “I find it hard to believe that what you said is true.”

 

Celeborn winced; this answered the question whether Thranduil was going to bring up the matter of his admission or not. “It is the truth.”

 

“Why tell me now? Or have these feelings awoken only now?” Thranduil carefully pushed himself into a sitting position and allowed Celeborn to assist him when the elder Elf moved to help. “I don’t understand. When did this start, then?”

 

Celeborn averted his eyes and stared at the floor as he felt unable to face Thranduil right now. “I don’t know when it started. I always cared for you and when we lived in Doriath you were my best friend.”

 

“Were you already attracted to me back then?” Thranduil studied Celeborn closely, sensing how hard this was on the elder Elf and he realized Celeborn hadn’t wanted to tell him in the first place.

 

“I honestly don’t know,” replied Celeborn, “I always felt *something* for you. But I was destined to marry Galadriel and you fell in love with Remmen. It was obvious that we weren’t meant to be together.”

 

“What has changed? What caused your feelings to reappear?” Thranduil was experiencing an emotional turmoil himself, as he tried to sort out his own feelings whilst listening to his old friend.

 

“The night of the feast… I saw Éomer and you leave early and I followed.” Celeborn heard Thranduil’s surprised gasp and briefly looked at him, shrugging apologetically. “I was worried he might be an inattentive lover and you looked so fragile. I merely wanted to protect you.”

 

“You felt jealous,” realized Thranduil suddenly. “You became jealous, seeing us leave together.”

 

“Yes,” said Celeborn, not even bothering to deny the truth. “I wanted you for myself, but I also realized Éomer could give you something I no longer can. His lust for you burned brightly and helped you find your way. I couldn’t step in there and drag you away from him. It was obvious those three nights were meant to be and you emerged so much stronger.”

 

“But Éomer left.” Thranduil carefully considered everything Celeborn had told him. “What did you hope to achieve with your admission last night?”

 

“Not much,” said Celeborn, calmly. “You asked why I rescued you myself and I found that I couldn’t lie to you. I had to speak the truth.”

 

“So you have had feelings for me for a long time?” summarized Thranduil, who was slowly reaching a decision of his own.

 

“Yes, I have. And I doubt they will go away again even if you reject my love. I have felt like this for so long that it has become a part of me. Galadriel, my dear wife, knew my heart longed for you and she set it free before she sailed for Valinor. But little good will it do me as you don’t love me in return.”

 

“And how do you know that?” Thranduil frowned, slowly beginning to understand that Celeborn thought his love was unrequited. “Why did you reach that conclusion?”

 

“Because I can see it in your eyes.” Celeborn smiled ruefully. “And you whispered no words of love back to me.”

 

“Did you ever consider you took me by surprise?” Thranduil shook his head at Celeborn’s conclusions. “I was concussed—“

 

“You *are* still concussed.”

 

“Don’t interrupt me!” Impatiently, Thranduil waved Celeborn’s remark away. “I was… indisposed… when you told me and you expect me to blurt out words of undying love?”

 

“Wishful thinking.” Celeborn gave Thranduil a pleading look. “I understand that this is a shock and I would never have told you—“

 

“Told me what?” asked Thranduil teasingly.

 

“You are going to make me repeat it?” Celeborn sighed in surrender. “I love you.”

 

“Again.”

 

Celeborn winced. “I love you.”

 

“Harder this time.”

 

Celeborn’s brow furrowed. “I love you,” he said in a slightly louder voice. “Why are you doing this to me? Why prolong my suffering?”

 

“Because I like hearing you say it.” Thranduil gave the elder Elf a wicked grin. “Come a bit closer, Celeborn. You are too far away.”

 

Celeborn gingerly exchanged his chair for the bedside. He didn’t know what to make of Thranduil’s odd behavior. Was the concussion still affecting Thranduil? That must be it! Why else… Those thoughts quickly fled, as Thranduil’s fingertips came to rest against his bottom lip. Questioningly looking at the younger Elf, Celeborn forced himself to wait for whatever was going to happen next.

 

“You shouldn’t draw conclusions without consulting the other participant in this play.” Thranduil teasingly caressed Celeborn’s bottom lip. “I really like hearing you say it.”

 

“What? That I love you?” Puzzled, Celeborn frowned. “What does this mean?” Thranduil was utterly confusing him!

 

“It means -- you old fool -- that you drew the wrong conclusion.” Thranduil smiled smugly. “I am agreeable to this.”

 

Celeborn’s heart skipped a beat. “You are?”

 

Thranduil’s smug grin broadened. “Indeed I am… Now would you kindly kiss me? We should find out if we are compatible in that way.” The stunned expression in Celeborn’s eyes amused him to no end. “As you aren’t moving, I will have to take the lead.” He rested one hand at the nape of Celeborn’s neck, whilst he used the other to draw the elder Elf closer to him. Slowly touching his lips to Celeborn’s, he maintained eye contact, wanting to see the exact moment the truth would sink in with the silver-haired Elf.

 

Being kissed on the lips by Thranduil was something Celeborn had never expected and he gasped softly, trying to steady his breathing, which had quickened at the intimate contact. “What does this mean?”

 

“It means I have feelings for you too,” said Thranduil calmly. “I don’t know what their exact nature is, but I am more than willing to find it if you are.”

 

“It is my greatest wish!” Celeborn’s shock made way for joy now that his love had been accepted. He would have loved to talk for many hours with Thranduil, but he could tell the conversation was draining the other Elf. “I did it again… I exhausted you!”

 

“I have the feeling you will exhaust me countless times in our future together. Thranduil chuckled softly.

 

Not used to this sort of innuendo coming from Thranduil, Celeborn’s face grew flustered. “Behave. You are in the House of Healing and someone can enter at any given moment.”

 

“I have never been known to behave myself in the past… Why should I start now?” Thranduil slid his hand in between Celeborn’s fingers and smiled tiredly. “It seems… I am… sleepy… again.”

 

“You are still recovering… meleth.” That last word left Celeborn’s lips somewhat gingerly, but he hoped that the expression in his eyes told Thranduil how much he loved the other Elf. This was so new! So unexpected! “I don’t know yet how to react to you now… now that everything has changed.”

 

“We will find… out in time…” mumbled Thranduil, already falling asleep. “Don’t… worry too… much…” Slipping into reverie, his hold on Celeborn’s hand loosened.

 

“I never thought you would accept me,” whispered Celeborn, still trying to accept his fears hadn’t come true. Tenderly rubbing the skin of Thranduil’s hand with his fingertips, he settled down for a long wait, unwilling to miss the exact moment Thranduil woke up again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Yes, enter.” Erestor was in the process of unbraiding his hair when Lindir entered his rooms, carrying a small pile of baby clothes and diapers. “You found something. Good!” Walking toward his friend, his dark, loose hair danced against the small of back and the long, raven strands nicely framed his face, giving his chocolate brown eyes an even darker expression.

 

Lindir handed Erestor the clothes and napkins and then walked over to the cradle. “He looks… clean.”

 

“I gave him a bath,” explained Erestor, who was now looking through the selection of baby clothes Lindir had brought. “These will do.”

 

Lindir ran a hand along Collofin’s face, bestowing a gentle caress on the Elfling. “Maybe it is a good thing that he is this young. Hopefully he won’t remember his parents were killed.”

 

“He is only a few days old,” said Erestor, pulling a midnight blue morning robe over the nightshirt he was wearing. “He won’t remember that fateful day.”

 

“Erestor? I have got milk!” Triumphant, Elrohir entered the room, waving a bottle filled with lukewarm milk.

 

“Excellent,” said Erestor, smiling at the half-Elf. Looking in the cradle, he found that Collofin’s eyes had opened and were now curiously examining his new surroundings. Erestor carefully lifted the Elfling and cradled him against his chest. “Are you hungry, pen-neth?”

 

Collofin squirmed in Erestor’s arms, and the advisor quickly sat down. “Elrohir, hand me that bottle.” Settling down comfortably, he encouraged Collofin to start drinking, which the baby promptly did, trying to grab hold of the bottle with his tiny, chubby fingers. “Yes, you are very hungry,” muttered Erestor absentmindedly, unaware of the amused looks Lindir and Elrohir exchanged. 

 

“Maybe we should leave them alone,” whispered Elrohir, “Give mother and son some privacy.”

 

“I heard that,” scowled Erestor. Mentally, he sighed, knowing only too well it would be a while before the whole of Imladris – and its inhabitants would settle down and return to normalcy. Whatever that was.


	23. Chapter 23

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 14

 

 

“Glorfindel, just change that diaper – now!” Erestor sighed, exasperated, seeing Glorfindel squeeze his nose shut so the unpleasant smell pouring from Collofin’s spoiled diapers wouldn’t invade his nostrils. “Don’t be such a baby!”

 

”I am not a baby!” Disgusted with the result that Collofin had managed to produce, Glorfindel quickly disposed of it. His features contorted when Erestor handed him a wet wash cloth to wipe the Elfling’s buttocks. “And why am I the one doing this?”

 

“You got off easy with Arwen and the twins,” said Erestor, smiling sweetly. “Now you will pull your weight with Collofin. Remember, you assured me that we were in this together.”

 

Glorfindel sighed in surrender. “But the smell!”

 

“You will get used to it,” said Erestor, as he handed Glorfindel a clean diaper.

 

“I doubt it.” Glorfindel had just cleaned the baby’s buttocks and was about to slip the clean diaper into place when…

 

Erestor burst out laughing, and hugged his waist in mirth, trying to contain his amusement, but utterly failing. “Oh, that’s…” Words failed him, and he leaned heavily against the wall for support, as his knees were buckling with laughter.

 

Collofin had chosen that exact moment to pee and the young one’s aim was truly perfect, hitting bull’s eyes by wetting Glorfindel’s tunic.

 

“This is not funny!” Glorfindel clung to his composure, simply pretending none of this was happening. Thankfully, Collofin had finished relieving himself and now cooed happily at Glorfindel. Although his arms were way too short, he tried to reach for the golden strands of hair, which always seemed to captivate him. “You are trouble, pen-neth.”

 

Erestor had finally caught his breath again, and coughed to clear the last remnants of laughter from his throat. “I am so glad he did that to you and not to me!”

 

“He will get you too. Don’t worry about that.” Glorfindel cleaned the Elfling again and quickly fastened the diaper in place. “He won’t succeed in doing that a second time to me!”

 

Erestor managed to restore his calm appearance, but privately he was still chuckling. Life would never be the same again with such a mischievous Elfling around.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Another mischievous Elfling in Minas Tirith was doing his best to put knots in Legolas’ hair. Legolas suffered in silence, allowing Remmen to twist and tug at the strands, hoping the child would tire eventually.

 

“Aye, I daresay you need help!” Gimli entered the small hall, in which Legolas and Remmen had found a comfortable spot near the fire place. Arwen was seated near them, sewing and humming softly. “And you, my Lady, have never looked fairer!” He bowed slightly and gave her a wink, at which Arwen giggled softly.

 

“Flattery will get you anywhere,” said Arwen, whose gaze came to rest on Remmen. She had played with the Elfling during the morning, giving Legolas a chance to catch up on the sleep he had been missing, and her heart had filled with hope, instinctively knowing she would have a son of her own one day in the future.

 

Gimli smiled at her, and then headed for Legolas, who winced when Remmen tugged particularly hard. “Would you hand him to me? I have hair in surplus for him to play with.” He sat down beside Legolas and expectantly opened his arms, eager to receive Remmen into them.

 

Legolas gave the Dwarf a grateful smile and then placed his son into the strong arms. It was a good thing that Remmen had taken a liking to Gimli, who allowed the baby’s inquisitive fingers to explore his beard.

 

Gimli could have sailed with Galadriel, who had for always stolen his heart, but he had announced he couldn’t possibly part from Legolas and Remmen yet. Legolas was a trusted companion and one of his closest friends, and seeing this miniature of his friend touched him deeply. He wanted to contribute to Remmen becoming a wise, just, and friendly Elf, much like his father was. “Where is Haldir today?”

 

“He is accompanying Aragorn on today’s patrols.” Haldir had gradually taken on more duties and was quickly becoming Aragorn’s second in command. The only drawback was that Legolas frequently missed having his husband close. “He will return tonight.”

 

Gimli heard the tone of sorrow and regret in Legolas’ voice, and understood his friend, but Haldir’s absence gave him a chance to spend more time with the Elfling. Remmen’s little fingers had stilled; tightly wrapped in his beard. “He is falling asleep.”

 

Legolas sighed in relief. “He has been remarkably active.”

 

“He is wearing you down,” said Arwen softly. “Haldir needs to spend more time here and less at my husband’s side. I will talk to Estel about this.” Legolas yawned and Arwen wondered if her future son would equally exhaust her. In a way, helping Legolas raise Remmen would help her be a better mother to her future son. “Why don’t you leave Remmen with us for the rest of the day? Walk in the gardens, take a long bath, or sleep!”

 

“That does sound tempting,” whispered Legolas, “I could visit with my father.” Although he had visited Thranduil yesterday, it would be nice to spend more time with him. That was, if Celeborn agreed to stop fussing over Thranduil for the duration of his visit. Ever since Thranduil had taken that fall, Celeborn had stopped hiding his feelings. His father had felt it was his duty to enlighten him, and had been surprised when Legolas had told him he already suspected as much. He had seen the relief in Thranduil’s eyes – had his father really expected him to oppose their relationship? Maybe. He could be extremely protective of his father and Thranduil knew that.

 

“I will collect Remmen before dinner.” Legolas placed a parental kiss on Remmen’s brow and then rose from the floor. “Thank you for looking after him.”

 

Arwen placed the embroidery she was working on aside, rose from the chair and joined Gimli and Remmen on the rug, smiling warmly at the Dwarf and Elfling. “We will enjoy our time with Remmen. Now go.”

 

Legolas cast one last look over his shoulder at his son to make sure Remmen was comfortable and enjoying himself and just caught Gimli’s surprised expression when possessive fingers tugged at his beard. Yes, they would be just fine and it was about time he talked to his father about Celeborn in depth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“A little higher… A bit harder… Yes, that’s the spot…. Good…” Purr.

 

Legolas blushed and halted in the doorway. His father’s words – and the tone of his voice – had stopped him. That purr had made him come to a standstill before entering Thranduil’s rooms. Aragorn had allowed Celeborn to take their patient back to his rooms, but the healer still checked on his charge regularly.

 

“Very good… You have talented hands… A bit harder… Yesssss!” More purring.

 

Legolas was about to turn around and leave when his father called out his name.

 

“Legolas, my son, please visit your old father!”

 

Drawing in a deep breath, as Legolas wasn’t certain what scene he would happen upon, he closed his eyes and stepped into the room.

 

“Why are your eyes closed?” Thranduil frowned at Legolas, but then his gaze shifted back to Celeborn, giving his new lover an adoring smile. “Thanks for the massage.” His concussion limited his movement and his muscles had cramped up due to the fact that he had been confined to bed. Celeborn had valiantly offered to relieve some of the tension situated in his neck and shoulders and Thranduil had of course accepted. Looking at his son now, Thranduil grinned as he realized what Legolas had imagined they were doing.

 

Legolas’ eyes opened abruptly, finding his father’s torso naked, but at least Thranduil was wearing breeches. Celeborn sat behind his father and was massaging his shoulders. Legolas shook his head, and giggled. “You don’t want to know what I was thinking!”

 

Celeborn flushed a nice shade of red, whilst Thranduil burst out laughing. “Oh, Legolas! I would lock the door if Celeborn and I were to engage in *that* sort of activity.”

 

“Would you?” Legolas advanced on them and sat down in a comfortable chair near his father’s bed.

 

Celeborn coughed in order to clear his throat and then rose from the bed. He covered Thranduil’s upper body with a warm blanket and helped his lover to lean back into the pillows, which were positioned against the head board of the bed. “Are you comfortable?”

 

“I would be more comfortable if you had remained in bed with me, meleth-nîn.”

 

Amused, Legolas found that Celeborn’s flush was still deepening. “You had better grow used to his teasing, my friend.”

 

“I never expected him to act in this manner,” admitted Celeborn, who seated himself near the fire place, putting some distance between Thranduil and he. Thranduil had surprised him in more ways than once since he had declared his love to the golden-haired Elf. Although they hadn’t gone any further than sharing that first kiss, Thranduil was constantly teasing him, almost luring him into deepening their intimacy. But Celeborn wanted to take this slow and wait until Thranduil had made a full recovery. Or else he would feel like he was taking advantage of the injured, younger Elf.

 

“Why didn’t you bring Remmen with you?” asked Thranduil, studying Legolas and easily identifying the exhaustion in the other’s eyes. “Celeborn and I would love to watch him for you.”

 

“I left him with Gimli and Arwen. He’s in the best hands, Ada.”

 

“And where is that husband of yours?” Thranduil’s brow furrowed. “He cannot leave you alone to look after Remmen. I will have a word with him the next time we meet.”

 

Legolas cringed. “Arwen plans on doing exactly the same thing. But honestly, Ada, Haldir cannot help it. Aragorn needs someone experienced at his side now that he’s rebuilding his kingdom.”

 

“Remmen needs his father more… You need your husband *more* than Aragorn a second in command!” Thranduil shook his head in disapproval. “Haldir has no idea what he’s missing out on.”

 

“He knows,” whispered Legolas softly. “And it’s not like I don’t see him at all. He is just away during the day for some hours. He always returns to me in the evening. He takes good care of me.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. “What’s behind this?”

 

“He misses Rúmil and Orophin,” explained Legolas, “He is so used to caring for them…” Surprised at hearing Celeborn sigh deeply, his gaze sought out the elder Elf, and realization finally settled in. “You must miss them too.”

 

“I do. The three of them were like sons to me, and now two of them have left me.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes filled with sorrow and understanding. “The hardest thing I ever did was allowing Legolas to join the Fellowship. I was afraid the quest would demand his life and I thank the Valar that they kept him safe.” Celeborn’s eyes revealed gratitude at hearing those words and Thranduil added, “May you find comfort in the fact that you will be reunited with them eventually. They are safe in Valinor and when we will eventually sail, you will hold them in your arms again.”

 

A single tear escaped Celeborn’s eyes and he quickly wiped it away. “You are right. I find comfort in that thought.”

“And in the meantime, you have me to distract and occupy you,” purred Thranduil, determined to do away with his lover’s melancholy. “Now seems a good time for that sponge bath you promised me.”

 

Legolas blushed and cleared his throat. “In that case I shall take my leave.” He doubted his father would behave during said sponge bath and had no desire to find out what his father’s hidden agenda was. “I will visit with you again tomorrow, Ada.”

 

“And bring Remmen, would you? I would love to spend more time with my grand son.” Thranduil briefly placed his hand on Legolas’ arm as his son leaned in closer to hug him. “I promise to behave when Remmen is close.”

 

“You had better!” said Legolas, amused. Taking a step away from his father’s bed, he exchanged a knowing glance with Celeborn. /I hope you have enough stamina, my Lord, for my father will exhaust you./

 

Celeborn wondered about the look Legolas was giving him, wishing he could read the younger Elf’s mind. But he couldn’t and had to settle for a courteous nod.

 

Legolas smiled, and left them alone, wondering how long it would take his father to wind Celeborn around his little finger utterly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Lower… I don’t have anything you haven’t seen before, mighty Lord of the Golden Wood,” said Thranduil teasingly, knowing the bantering would keep Celeborn from brooding. The sadness at having lost Galadriel and his foster sons was always present in Celeborn’s eyes and Thranduil was doing his best to distract his new lover.

 

Celeborn sighed deeply and then moved the sponge beneath Thranduil’s waist line to wash the younger Elf’s groin area. “Why did I ever agree to this?”

 

“Because you love me,” said Thranduil smugly, “So you want to take care of me.” A soft growl, followed by an almost feline purr escaped him when Celeborn’s fingers moved along his member, which was definitely interested in this turn of events. As the hardening flesh slowly rose to attention, Thranduil seductively licked his lips. “Oh, melethen, I like that very much.”

 

“I am sure you do. Now behave! I am merely cleaning you up and—“ Thranduil took him completely by surprise, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss whilst guiding his hand back onto the rising flesh. Eyes wide, he stared into Thranduil’s emerald eyes and felt stunned, seeing the love, acceptance and need in them. Thranduil was the most sensual, charming and bewitching Elf he had ever met. Not even Galadriel had touched the core of his being in this manner!

 

Unable to pull his hand away, he stroked lazily, savoring the needy and feverish moans that left Thranduil’s lips. Accepting this was really going to happen, he knelt on the bedside, and placed one hand at the column of Thranduil’s neck. He kissed him hard – bruising the soft lips. Establishing dominion over the younger Elf, his strokes now sped up, and he timed his kisses with the delightful manipulation of the other’s enflamed flesh.

 

Thranduil surrendered to Celeborn’s passion, allowing the other to set their pace. Moaning hungrily into the silver-haired Elf’s mouth, he began to thrust against his lover’s hand.

 

Celeborn growled low in this throat, and ignored Thranduil’s mews of disappointment when he pulled back, breaking their kiss. Instead, his lips moved lower, licking his way down Thranduil’s neck and nipping just beneath the ear. Warm cream suddenly erupted from the head of Thranduil’s shaft and dripped from his fingers, causing Celeborn to stop the intimate ministration. “You are most wicked.”

 

“Good,” panted Thranduil softly, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

 

But the emerald eyes told Celeborn differently. Thranduil was doing this for a reason. “Thank you.” Knowing he had found a new love helped him deal with the temporary loss of his loved ones.

 

Thranduil returned Celeborn’s smile and then added wickedly, “Now you have to clean me up – again, meleth-nîn.”

 

“I will gladly do so,” whispered Celeborn, pressing one more kiss on Thranduil’s swollen lips. “And you will have to behave for once.”

 

“I might be able to do that just for this one time – feeling satiated and content.” Thranduil raised his hand, gently moved his fingertips over Celeborn’s lips and mumbled, “I love you too.”

 

“I know you do, and I thank you for this gift, my dearest heart.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haldir entered their private chambers with a deep frown on his brow. “What is this? Haldir interrogation day?”

 

Legolas, who had just bathed Remmen, looked up. “What did you say, love?”

 

Haldir removed his weapons and boots, draped his riding cloak over a chair and advanced on his husband and son. He wrapped his arms around Legolas’ waist and rested his chin on the other Elf’s shoulder. “Maybe you can explain this to me. Upon our return, Arwen cornered us, demanding I spend more time with you and she chided Aragorn for keeping me away from you. Next, Celeborn approaches me on my way over here and demands to know what is so important that I am not at your side.”

 

Legolas leaned back against Haldir and finished dressing Remmen. “I told them not to do that. But they are worried.”

 

“Worried? About you?” Still frowning, Haldir stepped in front of Legolas, studying him. “You do look tired. Maybe they are right and I need to spend more time with you and Remmen. It isn’t fair for you to do all the work.”

 

“You already get up each night when Remmen cries.” Haldir didn’t allow him to leave their bed at night when Remmen was upset or cried, demanding he got as much sleep as possible. Also, Haldir took care of Remmen first thing in the morning.

 

“But still… You look tired – drained…” Haldir gave his beloved a thoughtful glance. In the end, he made his decision and gathered Remmen into his arms. “Stay here,” he told Legolas.

 

“Where are you going with Remmen?”

 

“Come with me then, if you must.” Haldir took hold of Legolas’ hand and guided his love out of the room and into the corridor.

 

They walked for some minutes, until his surroundings became very familiar to Legolas. “Are we visiting my father?”

 

“Just wait and see.” Haldir came to a halt in front of the door to Thranduil’s rooms and knocked once. “Are you decent, Ada?”

 

“Just which father are you addressing, pen-neth?” came Celeborn’s voice, clearly amused.

 

“Which ever father is decent!” teased Haldir in return.

 

“Come inside, my son,” said Celeborn, opening the door to let them in. But Haldir seemed to have different plans and Remmen was carefully placed in his arms. “Oh,” he whispered, delighted at finally having the Elfling in his arms. “Hello there, Remmen.”

 

Remmen’s bright eyes studied Celeborn and he seemed to like what he was seeing, giggling softly.

 

”Haldir, what are you doing?” Legolas tried to reach for Remmen, but his husband stopped him. “You need rest. A good night’s sleep without interruptions and crying. Celeborn offered to help and he’s more than capable of looking after an Elfling for a night.”

 

“Oh, yes!” Celeborn hugged Remmen close to his chest. “Thranduil and I would love to look after him!”

 

Thranduil, who wondered what the commotion was all about, had left the bed and slowly made his way over to the doorway. “Ah, Legolas, did you finally decide to let me spend more time with my grandson? Remmen, you are more than welcome here.”

 

The moment Remmen caught sight of Thranduil, he raised his arms, extended them and reached for the golden-haired Elf, who resembled his own father so closely. Chirping happily, his tiny fingers managed to grab hold of Thranduil’s robes.

 

“I do think we are already forming a bond, aren’t we, pen-neth?” Thranduil, who had been leaning against the wall, now leaned against Celeborn instead, who had wrapped an arm around his waist. “Would you give him to me, melethen?” His breath caught when Celeborn placed Remmen in his arms.

 

Celeborn gave Legolas a reassuring smile, indicating that Remmen was well cared for and then concentrated on Thranduil again, steering his lover back toward the bed. “You shouldn’t be up and about yet.”

 

“Come with me, Legolas. Remmen is in the best hands.” Haldir exchanged a look with his beloved, who looked slightly stunned. “You don’t mind me asking Celeborn and Thranduil to look after Remmen? They love taking care of him and we can have a night of peace and quiet.”

 

“No, you are right,” said Legolas thoughtfully. “I just didn’t want to burden them with—“

 

Haldir silenced Legolas with a deep kiss. “Watching Remmen is no burden to them. On the contrary, they love having him close.”

 

Legolas folded one arm around Haldir’s waist and pulled him close. “It is a pity we are standing in a corridor.”

 

“Having naughty thoughts, my love?” Haldir loved seeing the spark of desire in Legolas’ azure eyes. Since Remmen’s birth their intimate moments had been sparse. “You are right. We should make good use of tonight.”

 

“In that case we won’t get much rest.”

 

“Maybe Aragorn and Arwen will agree to watch over Remmen tomorrow night then, when we finally catch up on our sleep.” Haldir claimed Legolas’ lips once more, thoroughly looking forward to making love tonight.


	24. Chapter 24

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 15

 

 

Five years later

 

“Remmen grows up so quickly,” said Thranduil, sighing. His grandson had long taken his first few steps and if he wasn’t walking, he was crawling into places he wasn’t supposed to go. Minding the Elfling had become an exhausting task.

 

Legolas smiled warmly. Celeborn and his father had settled in Eryn Lasgalen some time ago, but they still visited frequently. “I am glad you came to Ithilien to spend time with us, Ada. I have missed having you close.”

 

Thranduil pulled Remmen onto his lap, and the Elfling was delighted when the elder Elf mimicked the movements of a horse, rocking him hard. Applauding Thranduil, he told his grand father to rock him harder. Thranduil cherished these moments with his son and grandson. Sometimes he wished Celeborn and he had settled in Ithilien as well, but their hearts had directed them to Eryn Lasgalen instead.

 

“Are you still happy with Celeborn?” Legolas served his father some hot herbal tea and watched the emerald eyes closely.

 

“Yes, I am very happy.”

 

“But there is something that troubles you,” said Legolas, easily reading his father’s face like an open book.

 

“Celeborn told me he would love to become a father again. He would love to have another child.”

 

Legolas shook his head in concern. “Don’t do it, Ada.” He still vividly recalled his father’s admission that he had died when giving birth to him. “I cannot lose you in such a way.”

 

“We aren’t arguing about it,” clarified Thranduil, tickling Remmen, who now desperately tried to get away from the teasing hands. “But I can read the desire in his eyes.”

 

“Would it help if Remmen stayed with you for part of the year?”

 

“I don’t think so,” said Thranduil, worried. “I want to give him a child, but…”

 

“You cannot take the risk that you might die during child birth. Mithrandir is no longer close to pull you back.”

 

“I know that.” Thranduil was growing desperate for a change in subject, so he asked, “And where is Haldir?”

 

“Walking the gardens with Celeborn.” Who knew, maybe they were having a similar discussion.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Are Legolas and you considering having another child?” asked Celeborn, who had settled down on the bench beside Haldir. At times like these he wished Rúmil and Orophin were still present. He missed them. He missed having a large family.

 

“We haven’t discussed that yet. Remmen keeps us extremely busy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

 

“Oh, I noticed.” Upon his arrival, he had found Haldir lecturing Remmen, who had climbed a tree a bit too tall for his father’s liking. “You were trouble too, Haldir.”

 

“Personally I think Remmen inherited a lot of character traits from his grandfather. Thranduil must keep you busy too.”

 

“But in a good way.” Celeborn smiled fondly, recalling waking up in Thranduil’s arms this very morning. “We are happy, Haldir. I never thought we would work out this well. I was always worried he would reject me in the end. We were practically strangers when we met again in Minas Tirith. We skipped becoming best friends again and became lovers instead.”

 

“How long will Thranduil and you stay this time?”

 

“A few weeks. He wants to spend time with Legolas and I must confess I am looking forward to playing with Remmen.”

 

“You do know you are always welcome here, don’t you?”

 

“I do, Haldir, but you must understand… Thranduil always loved his lands and by staying there he follows the song of his heart.” Now that the dark forces had been destroyed, the former Mirkwood had blossomed with green and new animal life. It was paradise to them. The only thing that was lacking was an addition to their family.

 

“What troubles you, Ada?”

 

“It is nothing,” said Celeborn, smiling to reassure Haldir. “Nothing at all.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Meanwhile, in Imladris, Collofin was causing no trouble at all. He was a silent child, content to be held and rocked. The boy was so quiet that at times Glorfindel and Elrohir tried to get him into trouble, but Collofin would simply stare at them with his big, blue eyes and give them an innocent and exasperated look.

 

“Collofin?” Erestor found the Elfling seated on the window sill in his study, and again he wondered why this was Collofin’s favorite spot. “Why are you here all alone?” He sat down beside Collofin and gathered the tiny hands in his. “Why are you always this sad, pen-neth?”

 

Collofin looked at Erestor, sighed, and snuggled up to the chief advisor, who was the closest thing he had to a mother. “Don’t know.”

 

Erestor sighed deeply, wrapped his arms around Collofin and pulled him onto his lap. “Shall I ask Glorfindel to take you for a ride on Asfaloth later today?” Although Collofin was still too young to ride by himself, the Elfling loved it when Glorfindel pulled him into the saddle to ride Asfaloth.

 

“I would like that,” said Collofin politely. He wrapped his arms around Erestor’s neck and stared into the chocolate brown eyes. “I feel alone, Ada.”

 

The words broke Erestor’s heart, even though he had heard them many times before. Ever since Collofin had begun to talk, the Elfling had told them he was lonely. Though he couldn’t figure out why, with so many Elves that cared for him. Pulling Collofin as close as possible, he petted the golden hair, highlighted with red. “I am so sorry, pen-neth. I wish I could love you even more.”

 

Collofin slightly pulled away so he could establish eye contact with Erestor. “I know you love me, Ada… and Ada Glorfindel loves me too.” He didn’t want them to think they didn’t love him enough. That wasn’t it. He longed for something else, something which he couldn’t label. It felt like half of his soul was missing. “Love you too, Ada.”

 

Magolion cleared his throat to announce his arrival. Upon seeing Collofin’s distressed state, he offered, “I can come back later.”

 

“No, that won’t be necessary,” said Erestor, signaling for his brother to enter. Much had changed between them during these last five years. Understanding had blossomed between them and they had finally managed to establish a brotherly relationship. “I am certain Collofin will enjoy visiting with the animals in the woods, won’t you?”

 

One of the things that really improved the Elfling’s mood was when he played with the squirrels, rabbits, deer and foxes, which housed in the neighboring forests. It was the one time Erestor felt truly grateful for his ability to communicate with animals.

 

“Yes, I want that,” said Collofin in a timid voice, reluctantly releasing Erestor from his tight hold. But the next moment he grabbed hold of Erestor’s right hand, refusing to let go again. “Want you close!”

 

“But of course, pen-neth.” Erestor fought the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. No matter how much they loved and pampered Collofin, the boy’s infinite sadness never went away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I wonder why he constantly feels sad and alone,” whispered Magolion, who was seated on the forest ground beside Erestor. They kept a close eye on Collofin, who was petting a rabbit’s long ears. “I cannot figure it out. Do you think it has something to do with… with his parents?”

 

They had decided against telling Collofin just yet about his parents. The boy knew Erestor and Glorfindel weren’t his real parents, as they were both males, but he had never asked them to explain. Elrond had then decided they would wait for Collofin to come to them with his questions. In the meantime, they would simply love Collofin and give him the best possible home.

 

Erestor shook his head, whilst asking one of the squirrels to jump onto Collofin’s head. The tiny animal slid down the golden strands and caused the Elfling to burst out into giggling. “He laughs too little.”

 

“But why?”

 

“I don’t know, Magolion. I honestly don’t know.” Erestor had pulled up his legs wrapped his arms around them and now rested his chin on top of his knees. His long, crimson robes were partly fanned over the forest ground. Leaves had tangled themselves in his long hair, and two butterflies had temporary found a home in the dark strands.

 

Magolion briefly looked away from Collofin and studied his brother instead. With each passing day more of the Istar heritage showed in his brother. At times, he vowed he saw tiny flames in the depths of Erestor’s irises. When they had returned to Imladris, Erestor and he had begun to spend time in each other’s company and he had been surprised to learn how easy it was to love Erestor as a brother. In a way, he wasn’t surprised to learn that Collofin loved Erestor and Glorfindel best. Now that the two Elves had worked out their problems, they practically radiated love and warmth.

 

“Ada, Ada, look!” Collofin cradled something against his chest as he cautiously walked toward Erestor. “Baby rabbit.” Carefully he lowered one arm to let Erestor and Magolion look at the tiny animal. “He’s so soft.”

 

For one tiny moment joy and happiness radiated from his eyes, but Erestor knew sadness would shortly replace it. “Yes, very lovely.” Looking behind Collofin, he found the baby’s mother sitting close, watching Collofin carry her baby. /Thank you,/ he sent, grateful that this moment had briefly put a smile on Collofin’s face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

44 years later

 

“You are still one year short of your majority, Remmen,” said Legolas in an accepting tone. “You have grown up so fast.” Father and son were seated opposite each other, looking into one another’s eyes. “You have grown in to a fine, young Elf.”

 

Remmen’s eyes shone with pride. “Thank you, Ada.” He adored his parents and the praise coming from Legolas meant the world to him. “Have you already decided where you want me to study this last year?” It was custom to send the youngsters away for one year to learn more of the outside world. “Eryn Lasgalen, perhaps?”

 

Legolas smiled warmly. “Yes, you will spend the next year with your grandfather. I assume you are agreeable to this?”

 

“I am,” said Remmen with a sparkling smile. He was extremely fond of Thranduil and he would love to see his grandfather again. It had been ten years since he had last seen Thranduil and Celeborn.

 

“There is something else…” muttered Legolas softly. “There is one more who will join you there. You won’t be the only ‘Elfling’ there.” Legolas smiled, using that word. He couldn’t really call his son an Elfling any more. Remmen had grown up and possessed the body of a warrior and was wise for his years.

 

Remmen raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and Legolas explained, “Collofin, Erestor’s adopted son will also spend his last year before reaching majority in Eryn Lasgalen. You will study together and reach majority in the same month. It will be good for you to have someone of your own age close.”

 

Remmen was pleasantly surprised to hear this news. “I am looking forward to meeting Collofin.” He had heard of the foundling that Erestor and Glorfindel had taken in, but had never met the Elf. “When will I leave, Ada?”

 

“Next month,” announced Legolas, feeling sad and lonely now that his son was about to leave the safety of his home. He just didn’t want Remmen to leave, but he couldn’t stop this from happening. Remmen was about to become an adult and needed to spread his wings.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas sat in the gardens, admiring the silver stars and trying to chase away his feelings of abandonment – which were completely irrational, but they still tormented him. In these last few decades Remmen had constantly been close, and letting his son stand on his own two feet frightened him.

 

He was therefore distracted and unfocused when Thranduil’s thoughts entered his mind, as he had never expected his father to contact him. It took him a few moments to register the other’s presence, but when he did, his eyes widened; his father was panicking! /Ada, what is amiss?/ Unable to control his instincts, he jumped up from the bench and stared at the heavens in a futile attempt to bridge the distance between his father and himself.

 

/I have done something utterly foolish,/ came Thranduil’s sighing response.

 

/What did you do?/ Legolas trembled and wondered what sort of foolish thing his father had done.

 

/I am with child, Legolas./ Thranduil cringed, knowing his son wouldn’t approve of his pregnancy.

 

/Ada!/ Legolas drew in a deep breath/ /Why? You died and almost stayed in the Halls of Waiting when you had me! What if things go amiss this time as well? Who will pull you back? I don’t want to lose you!/

 

In Eryn Lasgalen Thranduil released a deep, tormented sigh. He had wanted to contact Legolas earlier, but knew he had to make absolutely certain he was with child before startling his son. When Celeborn had left in the morning to train with their guards, he had watched his mirror image close, and had realized a tiny distension was showing already. He *was* pregnant; probably three or four months already. Sensing Legolas’ worry increase, he quickly addressed his son. /Maybe the birth will go smoothly this time. We don’t know for certain that there will be complications./ In reality he was extremely worried, but he had to radiate calm toward his son.

 

/I sense your worry,/ sent Legolas, shaking his head in disbelief. /You are worried complications will arise./

 

Realizing he had failed to calm Legolas, Thranduil hung his head. /Would you… When Remmen comes to live with Celeborn and I… Would you… Would you and Haldir…/ Why was it so difficult to ask this question? Because asking it would confirm Legolas’ suspicion that he indeed was worried.

 

/I am coming to see you! And I want to have a heart to heart with Celeborn! He convinced you to do this, didn’t he?/ Legolas recalled Celeborn’s often repeated wish to have another child. /You should have told him no!/

 

/I love him dearly, Legolas. How can I say no when it’s his heart’s desire?/ Thranduil’s features contorted, instinctively realizing what Legolas’ next remark would be.

 

/Celeborn must have been thrilled when you told him./

 

Thranduil lowered his eyes, ashamed, even though the gesture was lost on Legolas, who couldn’t see him. /I haven’t told him yet./

 

/What?/ Legolas’ temper flared with worry. /And when did you plan to do that? At the moment of birth?/ A moment later he regretted his bitter words. /It is my worry that made me lash out./

 

/I…/ Thranduil looked out of the window, crestfallen. In the distance he could make out the forms of the returning guards with Celeborn riding at the head of the group. /I never told him I died when I had you. I don’t want him to know, Legolas, and you won’t tell him./

 

Legolas shook his head once more as his frustration mounted. /Celeborn has the right to know that you can die during the birth./

 

/I don’t want him to know. He will feel guilty./

 

/He should feel guilty! He maneuvered you into this position – well, condition!/

 

Thranduil stared at the floor – lost. /I just want him to be happy./ Celeborn had made him happy during these last five decades and as it was within his power too fulfill his lover’s wish, he had relented. They had tried to create new life for months now, and had finally succeeded.

 

/You must tell him the truth,/ said Legolas resolutely. /And Haldir and I will accompany Remmen. It will take us one month at least to reach Eryn Lasgalen and you will rest during your pregnancy. Do you understand?/ Legolas frowned, musing. /Will you contact Elrond? He supervised my pregnancy and he is an accomplished healer./

 

/Legolas…/ Thranduil wasn’t certain he wanted Elrond to know about his condition. After all, Celeborn had been the half-Elf’s father in law at one time.

 

/Nonsense!/ Legolas instinctively knew what direction his father’s thoughts were heading in, and smothered the protest that was forthcoming. /I will contact Elrond./

 

/I know I should have timed this better,/ sent Thranduil. /Celeborn and I took on the responsibility to care for Remmen and Collofin for the next year and I shouldn’t be pregnant when I am to prepare them for the tasks they face when coming of age./

 

Legolas nodded absentmindedly. They wouldn’t let Collofin travel alone yet, and Elrond and the young Elf could travel together. /Leave this to me, Ada. Just be careful and rest. And tell Celeborn the truth./

 

Thranduil sighed in surrender. /I will./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Upon entering their private rooms, Celeborn could tell his lover was severely upset. During these last fifty years he had learned to read Thranduil’s expressions extremely well and he headed toward the bed, where the golden-haired Elf was curled up in a fetal position. He sat down on the side, and lovingly stroked the long hair. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Will you finally tell me what is eating you?” Thranduil’s brooding behavior had begun two months ago. The golden-haired Elf had become distant, absentminded and listless. Until now he had allowed his lover his privacy, but for Thranduil’s sake he had to find out. “Please tell me.”

 

Thranduil closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “There is something I should tell you. I don’t want to tell you, but… I should.”

 

Growing increasingly worried by his lover’s odd behavior, Celeborn moved further onto the bed until he was able to stretch out beside his lover. Snuggling close, he wrapped an arm around Thranduil and possessively draped a leg over the other’s thigh. He leaned in closer and sweetly kissed his lover’s lips. “Tell me.”

 

“When I had Legolas I died in childbirth.” Thranduil had wanted to blurt everything out in one go, but at hearing Celeborn’s sharp intake of breath, his eyes opened to look at the silver-haired Elf.

 

“You… died?” Alarm bells rang in Celeborn’s mind.

 

“I died, but Mithrandir managed to pull me back and somehow he gave me the strength I needed to survive. I felt weak for a very long time, but decided the ordeal had been worth it when he placed Legolas in my arms.” He absentmindedly registered the shock in Celeborn’s eyes, but was too lost in his memories to comfort his distressed lover. “And now that I am with child again, I—“

 

“What?” Celeborn’s eyes had widened and he barely managed to stop from shaking Thranduil. “You are what?”

 

“Our efforts paid off,” said Thranduil, trying to sound amused and teasing, but his grin turned out a grimace. “You will be a father in eight months.”

 

Celeborn’s thoughts raced, his mouth had gone dry and fear gripped him right by his throat. “You died and now you are with child again? My child?” By the Valar, what had he done? And why hadn’t Thranduil told him of the dangers? If he had known he could lose his lover he would never have persuaded Thranduil to give him a child!

 

“I know what you are thinking,” said Thranduil, swallowing hard. “But a child was your heart’s greatest desire and I couldn’t deny you that.”

 

“But what if you die again?” Celeborn – completely shocked – tightened his hold on his lover. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I felt inwardly torn,” explained Thranduil, “And maybe this time there won’t be any complications. Maybe this time everything will go right.”

 

Celeborn slowly shook his head. “Melethen, I don’t know what I feel. I rejoice because you are with child, but my heart pounds with fear now that I know I could lose you!” Had he ever felt this worried, this mentally tormented before? When Celebrían had been injured, he had felt depressed as well, but still it had felt different from this. “I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“That is what Legolas said when I told him,” said Thranduil. “I farpspoke with him before you entered and he told me to confide in you. And he is right. You deserve the truth.”

 

Celeborn sighed deeply, letting his fingertips soothe away the tormented expression on Thranduil’s brow. “You should have told me you died when you gave birth to Legolas. I would never have asked you to carry my child.” But he couldn’t change the past. He could only hope for the best.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

In the Halls of Waiting Námo watched the scene unfold. All pawns were moving toward their destined positions and it wouldn’t be long before all of the pieces were in place, and then he would finally have what he had craved for so long.


	25. Chapter 25

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 16

 

 

“Elrond? A letter has arrived from Legolas today.” Erestor handed the letter to Elrond with a deep frown on his brow. Although he was still faithfully carrying out his duties, his thoughts always strayed back to Collofin. It was hard to accept that he would have to do without his foster son for a year. Glorfindel was trying hard to console him, but the temporary loss of his adopted son severely affected Erestor, who had come to love Collofin as if he were his own flesh and blood. Absentmindedly, he sat down in front of the blazing fire in the fire place. The flames moved toward him, wrapping his feet in delicate warmth.

 

Elrond gulped, seeing the fire touch Erestor’s skin. The first time this had happened he had smothered the flames by throwing his cloak over the fire, but Erestor had merely given him a puzzled look, explaining to him that it wouldn’t burn him, for part of him was fire too.

 

So now Elrond sat back and watched how the fire slowly crept up Erestor’s legs. Delicately small flames danced on his chief advisor’s skin and clothing whilst his trusted friend continued to brood – doubtlessly about Collofin’s impending departure. Opening the letter, he realized just how deep Erestor’s fatherly love ran for their foundling. Elrond chuckled; having to admit that he had grown quite fond of Collofin himself. The youth was a delight to have around and often assisted him in the library when Collofin wasn’t painting, singing or composing poetry with Lindir. Collofin was quite the artist, though the young Elf could also expertly wield a sword due to Glorfindel and Magolion’s training.

 

Concentrating on the letter, his breath caught almost immediately. “This can’t be.”

 

Elrond’s remark drew Erestor’s attention and he questioningly looked at his friend. “What is it?”

 

“Thranduil is with child,” said Elrond, surprise palpable in his voice. “He is four months pregnant and Legolas is asking for my assistance, inviting me to stay in Eryn Lasgalen until the child is born.” Elrond’s brow furrowed. “He expects complications.” Elrond paled when he continued to read. “I never knew that Thranduil died when Legolas was born and that Mithrandir pulled him back from the Halls of Mandos.”

 

Erestor’s eyes narrowed. “Thranduil is pregnant?”

 

Elrond put down the letter, moistened his lips and looked Erestor in the eyes. “Yes.” Looking at the content of the letter again, he grew extremely worried. “Reading between the lines, I say that Legolas is afraid that the past will repeat itself.”

 

“And that Thranduil will die again?”

 

Elrond nodded, thinking this through. “When does Collofin leave for Eryn Lasgalen?”

 

“Tomorrow,” said Erestor with a heavy, burdened heart.

 

“I will join him then. We will travel together.”

 

Some of Erestor’s worry faded now that Collofin wouldn’t be traveling alone. Collofin had politely rejected their offers to escort him to Eryn Lasgalen, which had hurt Glorfindel’s feelings. Glorfindel was protective of his son and wanted to keep him safe. Being told no had hurt. But Erestor understood that Collofin felt ready to fend for himself. He just wasn’t sure Glorfindel and he were ready to let go of their son yet. “That reassures me… slightly.”

 

Elrond gave Erestor a look filled with understanding. “I know how you feel, my dearest friend. I felt like that when I had to let my children leave for the very first time. Please know that I will keep Collofin safe.”

 

“He will be peeved that you are accompanying him,” said Erestor, smirking.

 

“Oh, I am certain we will get along,” replied Elrond confidently.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remmen wasn’t pleased at all. At first they had agreed he would travel to Eryn Lasgalen alone, but now his parents were going to accompany him. He had looked forward to some measure of freedom.

 

Haldir registered Remmen’s somewhat disappointed expression and laughed warmly. “There will be more journeys than this one in your long life,”

 

“I hope so!” Remmen and Haldir had already mounted and were waiting for Legolas to join them. “Ada, I understand why you are coming along… I was just hoping to prove to you that I no longer need constant supervision.”

 

Haldir remembered a time when he had been most eager to prove exactly the same thing to Celeborn and understood how his son felt. “There will be plenty of opportunities,” he soothed.

 

Legolas finally mounted and steered his stallion toward Haldir. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened with worry and black circles were building beneath them. “We should hurry.”

 

Haldir reached out and placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “Are you *that* worried?”

 

“A sense of foreboding has taken hold of me,” explained Legolas in a tormented tone. “I need to know him alive and well.”

 

Remmen chided himself for his annoyance at having his parents travel with him. They weren’t joining him because they didn’t trust him to take care of himself, but because they were greatly worried about his grandfather. Seeing Legolas in such a miserable state, Remmen chased away any negative feelings and was determined to do what he could to comfort his father during this journey. He would stand at Legolas’ side and be the best son he could.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“May the Valar ride with you, my son.” Erestor bestowed a last hug onto Collofin, who firmly returned the embrace. “I will miss you.”

 

“You still have Glorfindel,” said Collofin, trying to lighten Erestor’s mood. But the truth was that parting hurt. It pained all three of them, but the time had come for him to ride toward his destiny. “You and Glorfindel raised me well. I will make you proud.” Smiling at Glorfindel, the misty azure eyes failed to hide their tears from him. “This isn’t for forever,” he reminded them.

 

Glorfindel tried to swallow the lump of emotions that had formed in his throat. Walking toward Erestor and Collofin, he opened his arms and buried them in a surprisingly strong hug as if he was unwilling to ever let go of his family. “I wish you would stay,” he whispered into his son’s ear.

 

Collofin smiled against Glorfindel’s hair and rubbed the small of his father’s back. “We will meet again in one year. That isn’t as long as it now seems.”

 

Erestor, also locked tightly in Glorfindel’s embrace, was unable to wipe at his tears and rubbed his face against the fabric of his lover’s tunic instead, drying his tears. Collofin didn’t surprise him – being the strongest one of the three of them. There was a hidden strength inside the younger Elf that continued to take him aback. “Please be careful on the road.”

 

“Elrond is riding with me,” said Collofin, reminding them. “I won’t be on the road alone. And the roads are safe nowadays.” He didn’t want them to worry about him. “Ada? Would you please let go? Erestor and I can’t breathe properly.”

 

His son’s teasing tone told Glorfindel to pull back and give Collofin a smile. “It isn’t too late yet to reconsider. Let me escort you to Eryn Lasgalen.”

 

“I thank you for your offer,” replied Collofin, who was finally able to breathe freely again. “But I am quite safe with Elrond.”

 

Elrond, in the meantime, was saying his goodbyes to Lindir. “I will return after the birth. There is no reason for me to stay a whole year. Collofin and Remmen will become friends and once Thranduil no longer needs me I will return to you, my love.”

 

Lindir pressed a loving kiss onto Elrond’s lips. “Even though I hate being parted from you, I know that you are most needed in Eryn Lasgalen. Please hurry back to me in time.”

 

“I will.” Elrond composed himself and mounted his horse. “Collofin? Are you coming?” Elrond admired the elegance and fluency in the younger Elf’s movements and felt some pride himself, having helped to raise this youngster. Though, even after all these years, something of a mystery clung to Collofin which none could explain.

 

Collofin mounted the mare, which had been a present from his parents last year and patted the horse’s neck. Seated high in the saddle, he looked at his loved ones and friends. Erestor had finally succumbed to his emotions and the dark eyes now released tears. Glorfindel had folded an arm around him and was holding Erestor tight. A bit more in the back were Elrohir and Magolion, smiling at him. They probably remembered the first time they set out for distant lands. “We will meet again in one year!” Pushing his heels into his mare’s flanks, he followed Elrond, who now set out for Eryn Lasgalen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil tried hard to act cheerfully and carefree, but was unable to fool Celeborn. Thranduil had grown pale during this last month and had lost considerable weight, fought vertigo and radiated exhaustion. Celeborn was slowly beginning to realize he could lose his lover during this pregnancy and did whatever he could to pamper Thranduil. But with each passing day Thranduil grew weaker.

 

Celeborn joined Thranduil, who was snuggled away in a big chair in their bedroom. The golden-haired Elf stared blankly into the fire whilst a hand restlessly rubbed the swollen abdomen. Kneeling at Thranduil’s feet, he pleadingly looked at his lover. “Is there anything I can do to make this more bearable?”

 

“You can tell me when Elrond will arrive,” replied Thranduil in a strained tone. He had been nauseated all morning and hadn’t been able to keep anything down for days. When carrying Legolas he had already been in a bad way, but he had never been this miserable. His long, once golden hair rested on his shoulders. It had lost most of its luster and seemed as listless as its owner. The once emerald eyes were dull and unfocused, and tremors rocked his frame. It was becoming clear to him – and no doubt to Celeborn as well – that his pregnancy wasn’t progressing as it should.

 

“He will arrive in a few days.” Celeborn hung his head in shame. “This is my fault.”

 

“No, it isn’t,” soothed Thranduil, reaching out a trembling hand to rest it on Celeborn’s hair. “I should have told you about the risks we were taking. This was as much my decision as it was yours.”

 

Tears built in Celeborn’s eyes and he quickly changed the subject, unwilling to cry in front of his weakened lover. “I expect Legolas, Haldir and Remmen to arrive tomorrow.” Maybe Legolas knew how to improve Thranduil’s condition? Celeborn found himself clinging to that hope.

 

“Yes, I can sense my son. They are very near.” Thranduil managed a weak smile, but then sobered quickly. Until now they had avoided discussing a miscarriage, and he judged the time had come to address the matter. “We must face reality, Celeborn. It is obvious that I am not doing well, carrying this child.”

 

“Please don’t speak of it,” begged Celeborn, lifting swimming eyes to meet his lover’s. “Elrond will arrive shortly and he will know of a way to make sure you and the baby remain alive. He also helped deliver Remmen.”

 

“But Legolas was healthy,” said Thranduil, reminding his lover. “Legolas was strong. I am not. I am quickly growing increasingly weaker. We must face the possibility that the child won’t live. That I will suffer a miscarriage.”

 

“Please don’t!” Celeborn firmly gathered Thranduil’s surprisingly cold hands in his.

 

“And then there is the possibility that…” Thranduil paused to gather his courage and strength, “that I won’t survive either.”

 

Celeborn released a keening wail and rested his chin on Thranduil’s knees, crouching at his lover’s feet. “You mustn’t say such things!” Shaky with emotion, he finally lifted his eyes to look at Thranduil. He cringed, seeing the tired expression in the once emerald eyes, the slumped shoulders and the resignation on his lover’s face. “You must fight!”

 

Thranduil freed a hand from Celeborn’s possessive hold and gently stroked the silver-haired Elf’s face. “I love you, Celeborn. The Valar know I love you, and that I don’t wish to be parted from you, but we might not have a say in this, melethen.”

 

“I cannot live without you!” Celeborn moved closer and wrapped his arms around Thranduil’s knees, pleadingly looking up at his lover. “This is my fault. I should never have…” Words failed him, feeling Thranduil tense against him.

 

“Bathroom…” whispered Thranduil, “now.”

 

Celeborn rose from the floor, pushed his arms beneath the weakened Elf and easily lifted him to carry Thranduil into the bathroom. Thranduil wasted no time throwing up the little water he’d had today and Celeborn steadied him, smoothing his lover’ hair away from his face. Then horror struck him, seeing the blood in the sink. Tears finally crept down his face, fully realizing he *would* lose Thranduil and their unborn child.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Námo’s heart felt burdened, seeing Thranduil suffer and he wished he could ease the Elf’s pain. He regretted that this was necessary, but it was the only way.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remmen and Haldir exchanged a look. During these last thirty days, Legolas had grown very silent and emotionally distant. They suspected it had everything to do with Thranduil and had tried coaxing Legolas into talking, but to no avail.

 

“We should arrive within the hour,” said Haldir, hoping the news would soothe Legolas. They had traveled at the highest possible speed and had covered the distance as planned.

 

During their journey, Remmen realized how grave the situation was and had supported his father in whatever way possible. But then Legolas had put this emotional distance between the two of them and the young Elf didn’t know how to handle that. Thankfully, Haldir had realized what was happening and had comforted Remmen, whenever their son felt lost and confused.

 

Legolas seemed to awaken from the trance he was in and flinched, seeing the look in his son’s eyes. “Oh, I am sorry I hurt you,” Legolas whispered in a broken tone. “I never wanted to ignore you, but… Thranduil… He is in a bad way, my son.” These last few days his father’s pain had mounted, and through their connection he had felt it too.

 

Remmen steered his horse closer to Legolas, and once he was close enough, he managed to fold an arm around his father. “I think I understand.”

 

“Thank you.” Legolas squeezed his son’s shoulder and forced a smile onto his face. However, it was a fake smile, as he sensed his father was slowly dying.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Terror took hold of Celeborn, finding blood still slipped past Thranduil’s lips and when he helped the younger Elf to lie down, he also found the seat of his lover’s leggings stained with dark blood. “What’s happening?” Oh, he knew what was happening! He just didn’t want to acknowledge it!

 

Thranduil bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his pain inside and to not scream out. Reclining into a prone position, he stared blankly at the ceiling. “I am losing the child.”

 

Celeborn’s silver mane danced angrily when he shook his head in denial. “No, this can’t be happening. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to stop the bleeding!”

 

“You can’t,” whispered Thranduil, exhaustion quickly overtaking him. “The child is dead within me and needs a way out.” He paused to gather his breath. “We need Elrond.”

 

Wringing his hands, Celeborn went down onto his knees next to the bed. He placed his hands on either side of Thranduil’s head and looked deeply into the green eyes. “I never wanted any of this to happen!” His voice had taken on a tone of horror, loss and confusion. Unable to think clearly, he simply continued to stare at his weakened lover.

 

“Let me help!” Legolas stormed into the room, and although he was shocked to find Thranduil in this state, he pushed his emotions aside. He had to concentrate! It was apparent that Celeborn was in a state of total shock and wouldn’t be much help, so Legolas called Haldir to him.

 

“Stay here, Remmen.” Haldir left his son in the doorway. He would have preferred for Remmen not to see this, but knew the young Elf would protest against being sent away.

 

Remmen’s breath caught at the sight of the dark blood that clung to his grand father’s lips and that now dripped onto the once stainless, white sheets. When he had realized how different he was from other Elves, he had never thought there was a possibility he could die during a pregnancy, but seeing Thranduil now, he realized the seriousness of the situation.

 

“Legolas… my son,” Thranduil even managed a smile at finding his son close so unexpectedly. “It is the child…”

 

Legolas firmly nodded once. “I know that, Ada!” He cast an infuriated look at Celeborn for getting this father into this condition. And although he knew that this was Thranduil’s fault as well, it was easier to lash out at the silver-haired Elf than at his father. “Why? Why couldn’t you just respect him saying no?”

 

Celeborn swayed on his knees. Legolas’ words hit him like a physical blow, once more reminding him that he was responsible for the miserable state his lover was in. “I didn’t know…” he whispered, barely audible.

 

Haldir sat on his heels and assisted Celeborn in slowly rising from the floor. “Where is Elrond? Why isn’t he attending to Thranduil?”

 

“He hasn’t arrived yet,” said Celeborn in a distant, emotionless tone as his guilt overwhelmed him.

 

Haldir cringed, his features contorting, as he exchanged a look with his husband. He saw the tears in Legolas’ eyes and recognized the helpless expression in them. The truth was that Legolas didn’t know how to help his father, how to give him the strength to survive. Haldir realized that bitter truth that very moment.

 

“I will die,” said Thranduil, weakly. His eyes sought out Celeborn’s, but his lover’s gaze was downcast and it was obvious the silver-haired Elf didn’t dare to look at him. The dead child – still inside him – would take him into death with him. “It isn’t your fault, meleth,” he added, seeking to alleviate Celeborn’s anguish.

 

“But it is,” said Celeborn firmly, finally lifting his gaze to meet Thranduil’s. “This is my fault!” Thranduil’s eyes were filled with suffering and the once smooth skin was now covered in cold sweat. Life was quickly fleeing Thranduil’s body. For him, joy would leave Arda together with Thranduil’s last breath. /If I could, I would die in your place./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Those were the very words Námo had been waiting for.

 

Námo seldom left the Halls of Waiting, but this time he did, and manifested in Eryn Lasgalen – in Thranduil’s bedroom. Unseen, he moved toward Celeborn, studying the silver-haired Elf. This was what he had always wanted – had always craved. Celeborn was old, strong, cunning, amusing and most of all, his heart was capable of a love he had never seen before. These were the very things he counted on when he allowed Celeborn to see him. /Celeborn, Prince of Doriath, see me./

 

Celeborn’s eyes widened impossibly, finding a stranger in their midst. For one moment he thought he had lost his mind, as no one else seemed to notice the stranger, but then he recalled the offer he had made. He had offered to die for Thranduil. /Are you…?/

 

/I am Námo, yes./ With one hand the Vala reached out to caress Thranduil’s brow. The golden-haired Elf’s soft moans of pain faded away at the touch. But the first signs of death replaced them; the weakened Elf’s body radiated cold and ice seemed to form on the dying Elf’s brow.

 

“No!” Weeping brokenly, Legolas wrapped his arms around his father and pulled him close against him. “No, I won’t let you go!” But the body in his arms was cold, and life was seeping through their fingers. Thranduil was only seconds away from entering the Halls of Waiting for all eternity.

 

Remmen, who had obeyed Haldir until now, hurried over to his father’s side and supported Legolas in turn. Even despite his young age he keenly felt the drama which was taking place here and he did his best to soothe his distressed father.

 

/You said you would die for him. Are those just words or are you prepared to follow through?/ Námo studied Celeborn, wondering what the former Prince of Doriath would decide.

 

Celeborn shivered, taking in Námo’s form. The Vala’s skin was as white as ice. Long, white hair framed a face which was ethereal in its beauty and long strands descended down the gracious back. Narrow, pale lips, bereft of any color twitched nervously. The Vala was dressed in luxurious white robes, lined with fur. A circlet of star-shaped icicles and frozen flowers adorned Námo’s hair. Looking into Námo’s eyes took what remained of Celeborn’s courage. The pupils were white and existed of a thousand minute snowflakes, whilst the irises were of the gentlest blue he had ever seen. His first instinct was to recoil from the Dooms man, but those eyes reassured him that Námo didn’t mean him ill. /I meant those words./ By now Celeborn realized that he was the only one able to see the Vala, and he focused on Námo, instead of Thranduil, seeing a chance to save the weakened Elf’s life. /I mean it. I will die for him./

 

Celeborn trembled violently against him, and Haldir’s concern increased. What kind of effect would losing Thranduil have on his foster father? His attention was drawn toward Legolas and Remmen, who were holding on to Thranduil, trying to keep the elder Elf with them by whispering words of love. Seeing Legolas weep unashamedly at the impending loss, he wished he could comfort his husband, but he didn’t dare let go of Celeborn, afraid of what might happen if he did.

 

“No, Ada, you can’t die! Don’t leave me! I won’t allow it!” Legolas was prepared to fight for his father’s life, but there was so little he could do!

 

Thranduil’s eyes opened one last time and he managed to caress a strand of his son’s hair. “I… love… you… son…” Using his last strength, he sought out Celeborn’s form and his last breath caught, seeing the Vala at his bedside, who had doubtlessly come for him. A smile formed on his face, realizing his time had come. Maybe he would finally be reunited with the love of his life in the Halls of Waiting.

 

“No, take *me* instead of him!” In his distress, Celeborn called out to Námo, ignoring the other Elves. “Take me! But let him live!” This was his fault any way. If he hadn’t persuaded Thranduil to give him a child, none of this would have happened! It was only fitting that *he* paid the price for his foolishness, and not Thranduil. “Take *me*!”

 

A smile, filled with sorrow and strangely enough also with longing, surfaced on Námo’s face at hearing Celeborn’s words. Lifting his right hand he rested it on Celeborn’s shoulder. /So be it, Child of Doriath. Your life is forfeit and Thranduil’s life restored./

 

Those were the last words Celeborn heard in life, for when he collapsed against Haldir, life left his body and his fëa was already on its way to the Halls of Waiting.


	26. Chapter 26

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 17

 

 

A scream – resembling that one of a newborn – left Thranduil’s blood-stained lips. In those short moments of near death, he had heard Celeborn’s dooming words. He had also seen the sad, yet also content expression on Námo’s face, and he released a series of sobs, realizing the deal that had been made had cost Celeborn’s life. “No…!”

 

Legolas’ eyes fastened on his father’s form. The younger Elf didn’t dare believe his father was still alive, and he had never registered Celeborn collapsing into a heap on the floor as his attention was focused solely on his father.

 

Haldir immediately fell to his knees to examine Celeborn. A quick check told him that there was no pulse and that his foster father had stopped breathing. Horrified, he stared at the lifeless body, which he now pressed close to his chest. “I… don’t… I don’t understand,” he stuttered in disbelief.

 

Thranduil’s swimming eyes released fat tears. “I heard… what happened… Námo took him… instead of me…” Then a merciful sleep came over him, taking away the discomfort his miscarriage brought. Absentmindedly, he understood that the child still needed to leave his body, but he was too emotionally hurt and broken to give it much thought. Hopefully, Elrond would arrive shortly and help him heal.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They sat in shock, huddling close together. Celeborn’s remains lay in the center of the room after Haldir and Legolas had tended to it. They had washed Celeborn and dressed him in his finest robes. His hair had been combed and braided, his hands folded. He merely looked asleep, but they all knew the truth.

 

“As is custom, we will burn his body on the pyre at sunset,” said Haldir softly. He hadn’t only just lost a good friend, but also his foster father – the Elf who had loved him for most of his life. “I still don’t understand.”

 

Legolas bowed his head, and stared at the floor, sending a prayer to the Valar. Recalling Thranduil’s words, he said, “Celeborn made a decision, Haldir. He loved my father so much that he died for him.”

 

Haldir found it hard to accept that the Vala Námo had made such a bargain. But how else could he explain the inexplicable? How else could he explain the fact that Thranduil lived and that Celeborn had sagged against him in death?

 

“I need to sit with my father,” said Legolas in a gentle voice. Thranduil was deeply asleep, but not out of danger until the dead fetus had been removed from his father’s body. “Send Elrond to me the moment he arrives.” He placed a kiss on Haldir’s brow, gave him an encouraging look and then hurried to join his father.

 

Remmen, seeing his father’s distress, wrapped an arm around Haldir’s waist. He was still trying to understand and accept what he had witnessed, and if he was struggling with all that, his father had to be in an even greater emotional upheaval. His youth showed when no words of comfort came to him, and he reacted the only way he knew how – by hugging Haldir close and holding his father tight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas sat at Thranduil’s bedside, loosely holding his father’s hand in his. Deep lines had formed on Thranduil’s brow, and the thin, bloodless lips moved whenever his father drew in a new breath. He spoke softly, in need of hearing a voice, even if it was just his own. “I hope Celeborn’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain, Ada. You are still in a bad way.” The dead fetus was slowly poisoning Thranduil from the inside. “We need Elrond.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You may open your eyes, Celeborn. I won’t harm you,” said Námo, wondering if he had made the right decision after all. But there had been no other way – not for him, nor for Celeborn. This was their destiny.

 

Celeborn hadn’t even realized he had squeezed his eyes shut and quickly opened them to take in his surroundings. He was in a spacious hall with a high ceiling and all around him were tapestries, which depicted Arda’s history. “The Halls of Waiting. I am really dead then.”

 

“Yes, you are,” said Námo, sitting down on one of the chairs near the fireplace. “Come over here and join me.”

 

Cautiously, Celeborn complied. His eyes narrowed, studying Námo. The reality of his situation hadn’t really registered with him yet when he sat down opposite the Vala. A part of him needed more time to truly understand that he had died and was now in the Halls of Waiting. The surrealistic setting of this conversation should have made it easier for him to understand and accept he was dead, but it didn’t. “Is Thranduil well?”

 

“Better. Elrond will arrive within the next hour and operate on him. Thranduil will make a full recovery. You bought life for him with your death.” Námo reached for a carafe and filled a crystal glass with sweet miruvor, which he promptly offered Celeborn.

 

Celeborn raised an eyebrow. “Can the dead drink?”

 

“Why don’t you try and find out?”

 

Celeborn accepted the glass and took a careful sip. The miruvor flowed down his throat, warming him from the inside. “I must admit death is nothing like I imagined it would be.”

 

“You are only seeing part of my Halls. I will show you the rest later,” said the Vala, wondering about his next step. Seeing the sorrow and guilt in Celeborn’s eyes, he felt he needed to comfort the other. “You made the right decision, Child of Doriath. Thranduil was never meant for you.”

 

Anger flared in Celeborn’s eyes. “I love him!”

 

“Yes, you do,” said the Vala quickly, trying to placate Celeborn, “And you made the ultimate sacrifice, but Thranduil still wasn’t meant for you.”

 

Celeborn’s anger increased. “How can you say that?”

 

A gentle and understanding expression appeared in the frost-blue eyes. “Thranduil never stopped loving Remmen.”

 

”But Remmen is dead!” Oops, Remmen was in the Halls of Waiting as well. Would they run into each other? That might be awkward! Celeborn wasn’t certain what to make of this development.

 

“Remmen has been granted another chance.” Námo carefully monitored Celeborn’s reaction. “He was reborn forty-nine years ago and is about to reach his majority. His path will lead him back to Thranduil and he is only hours away from being reunited with his love.”

 

Celeborn’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. “What?”

 

The Vala nodded to confirm his words. “Your sacrifice was painful but necessary. Remmen will help Thranduil deal with the loss of his child and in time, Thranduil will recover. You must understand, Celeborn,” said Námo, leaning in closer to deepen their eye contact, “Their love doesn’t compare to yours. They are two halves of one soul. Yes, you love Thranduil, but not in the same way that Remmen does.”

 

“I died for him!” Celeborn flung the glass against the wall, where the crystal shattered into tiny pieces. “I died for him! Don’t you tell me I didn’t love him enough!”

 

A soft smile curled the corners of Námo’s lips. Yes, there was much fire and passion in this one, just as he had thought. Rising from his chair as well, he stood his ground, whilst Celeborn glared at him. “Prince of Doriath, your destiny lies elsewhere – not with Thranduil.”

 

Celeborn’s eyes shot daggers at the Vala. “Did you trick me?” He hadn’t thought it possible for a Vala to act in such an honorless way, but suddenly he found himself wondering. “You did trick me! By taking my life instead of Thranduil’s you cleared the way for Remmen!”

 

Námo gave Celeborn an apologetic smile. “I did. I have planned this for the last few decades.”

 

“Why? Just to reunite Remmen and Thranduil?” Where did that leave him?

 

“No, not just to reunite them.” Námo moistened his lips. He wanted to confide in Celeborn, but couldn’t – not yet. Celeborn was still too infuriated and wouldn’t listen to him. He had to bide his time and hopefully Celeborn would let go of his anger. He had to wait for Celeborn to come to him. “I have other reasons as well. Personal ones.”

 

This admission made Celeborn even more suspicious. /What are your plans? What is your hidden agenda and why does it involve me?/

 

Námo sensed Celeborn’s suspicion and walked toward the doorway, realizing the newest addition to his halls needed a moment of privacy to compose himself. “I will return later.”

 

Celeborn nodded once. First he wanted to mourn losing Thranduil and then he would find out Námo’s intentions where he was concerned. No one manipulated him in such a way!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond grew alarmed when no one was there to welcome them to Eryn Lasgalen. Signaling for Collofin to dismount as well, they entered the building and headed in the direction several voices were coming from. Instinctively, he knew something very disconcerting had happened, and he wondered what it was. /By the Valar, I just hope everyone is well./

 

Collofin stayed a few feet behind Elrond, feeling confused and then… A voice registered with him, soft and gentle, but when he looked about no one was close. Elrond had entered the room to their right, and as he hadn’t followed, he now stood alone in the corridor. That voice – that sweet, gentle and teasing voice was calling to him.

 

In the meantime, Elrond had frozen in shock at finding Celeborn’s lifeless body in the center of the room with Haldir and Remmen crying softly next to the bier. “What happened here?”

 

At hearing Elrond’s voice, Haldir lifted his head and stared bleary-eyed at the half-Elf. “You!” Pushing away from his son, he raced toward Elrond and grabbed the healer’s arm. “You have to come with me -- now!”

 

Elrond decided it was best to let Haldir take the lead in this. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at Celeborn’s face, frozen in death. By the Valar, what *had* happened here?

 

Collofin stood entranced, wondering what was happening to him. Absentmindedly he registered Haldir and Elrond hurrying down the corridor and he instinctively followed. When they reached Thranduil’s rooms, Haldir flung the door open and pushed Elrond inside. From a distance, Collofin followed, watching closely as Elrond approached the bed.

 

Collofin had never seen Thranduil or Legolas before. Yes, he had met Haldir and Remmen once when they had visited Imladris, but Legolas hadn’t joined them on that journey. As if hypnotized, his gaze fastened on Thranduil’s face – his eyes, and then he lost himself in them.

 

Elrond wasted no time, instantly realizing the graveness of the situation. “I have to perform surgery. Haldir, fetch me clean bandages. Legolas, I need hot water. Arrange for those things now!”

 

Legolas allowed for a sigh of relief to escape his lips now that Elrond had arrived. “Please take good care of him.”

 

“I will.” Elrond focused on his patient whilst Haldir and Legolas carried out his orders. Damn it, he needed an extra pair of hands! Why hadn’t he brought Elrohir with him?

 

“Can I help?” Collofin shuffled into the room. His gaze remained fastened on Thranduil and his heart did something amazing; it thumped with love – with memories.

 

“Yes, you can!” Elrond sighed. Collofin had some basic training as a healer, but had seldom dealt with patients. “We need to undress him!”

 

Collofin nodded once and then carried out his appointed task with infinite tenderness. He knew every spot of Thranduil’s body. Knew where to touch to illicit a mew of passion and where to touch to soothe. Knew the other as well as he knew himself. The realization was absolute and instant.

 

Elrond noticed the tenderness and care in Collofin’s ministrations and wondered about that. But he pushed those thoughts away, as he needed to concentrate on his patient. Now that Thranduil’s distended abdomen was revealed, he swallowed hard, knowing he had to cut the blond Elf open in order to remove the child from Thranduil’s body.

 

Haldir arrived first, placing towels, wash cloths and bandages on the side table next to Thranduil’s bed. He then stood back, giving Elrond the space he needed to work. Legolas arrived next, putting two large bowls of hot water near the bed. “Elrond? How can I help?” He desperately wanted to help his father!

 

“Don’t get in my way,” said Elrond calmly, cleaning the area he would operate on. Before placing the tip of the small knife on Thranduil’s skin, he made sure his patient was still unconscious.

 

“He can’t die… Please,” begged Legolas, leaning heavily against Haldir for support.

 

“He won’t die, ernilen dithen (my little prince). I won’t let him die, I promise.”

 

Legolas’ heart stopped beating for one moment, being called something he hadn’t been called since his childhood. “What did you call me?” He had been so focused on Thranduil that he had barely noticed the golden-haired Elf that was working alongside Elrond and whose face was hidden behind a curtain of red and gold.

 

“Ernilen dithen, Legolas.” Collofin briefly looked Legolas in the eyes.

 

Stupefied, Legolas stared at the so familiar face that still comforted him in his dreams at night. “Can’t… be.”

 

Elrond cursed softly. He had no idea what was happening, and didn’t have the time to find out. “Focus, Collofin!” He had opened Thranduil’s stomach and was about to remove the dead fetus. He couldn’t afford making mistakes!

 

“Collofin? But…” Legolas swallowed hard, but failed to rid himself of the lump of emotions that had formed in his throat. He knew that face, that voice, those eyes! And a different name belonged to them! But that couldn’t be! No!

 

“We will discuss this later, pen-neth. We need to concentrate on your nana first,” said Collofin, trying to calm down Legolas, who was growing increasingly upset.

 

“Pen-neth?” whispered Haldir questioningly.

 

Elrond finally finished surgery and closed Thranduil’s abdomen. “He will live,” he said, sighing deeply. “And now I want to know what this is about!” He stared inquisitively at Collofin, who was many millennia younger than Legolas, so why would the younger Elf call Legolas pen-neth?

 

Collofin wanted to explain, but first he needed to make sure Thranduil was out of danger. He carefully sat down on the bedside and smoothed damp strands away from Thranduil’s sweat covered face. Then he did something he had thought he would never do again – he reached out with his mind and touched a tendril of Thranduil’s being. /Meleth?/

 

Thranduil, who had been drowning in unconsciousness, instantly opened his eyes. He couldn’t possibly feel what he was feeling! But the eyes he looked into were so familiar. And so was the touch of the hands sliding through his hair. What sweet vision was this? “Rem…men?”

 

Collofin nodded once and smiled. “I have returned to you. I didn’t know who I was until I saw you, and Legolas.” He leaned in closer, and ignoring the blood on Thranduil’s lips, kissed him.

 

Something suddenly registered with Legolas. “He called him nana. Remmen always did that, knowing it annoyed Thranduil to be called that.”

 

Collofin’s smile became radiant. “Yes, it always did frustrate your nana.”

 

Unable to deal with more revelations, Thranduil slipped back into a merciful, dreamless sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Collofin refused to leave Thranduil’s side when Elrond ordered him to join them in the corridor. “I have been without him for so long that I refuse to leave him alone now that I have finally found him again!”

 

Elrond shook his head, wondering what he was supposed to do. “Thranduil is asleep and it’s a healing sleep. We should disturb him as little as possible.”

 

“My presence here won’t disturb him. It will help him heal.” Collofin drew in a deep breath. “I want a moment alone with my son and husband.”

 

Elrond gulped for breath. “Collofin, I don’t know why you think you are Remmen, but—“

 

“I *am* Remmen,” said Collofin steadfast. “And now I want a moment with my son and husband.” His tone was demanding and authoritative and he could see it was throwing Elrond off balance. He would apologize for his behavior later.

 

“This goes against my better judgment,” said Elrond, almost gnashing his teeth in frustration. When he looked at Haldir, he found that the silver-haired Elf was just as reluctant to leave.

 

But then Haldir frowned deeply, remembering something. “Remmen’s portrait.” Thranduil had shown it to him once, many years ago. The face had faded in his memory, but now that he looked more closely at Collofin it seemed familiar.

 

Legolas rose from the bed, searched the pockets of his father’s tunic and when he had found the portrait, he handed it to Elrond. “This is my father. This is Remmen.”

 

Elrond stared at the portrait, sharply sucking in his breath and then looked at Collofin. “This is your face.”

 

Collofin nodded again. “My memories were dormant until I found Thranduil again. But it is true; Námo allowed me to return to Arda so I could be reunited with my family.”

 

“Námo…” Haldir wondered about the Vala. Námo had taken Celeborn’s fëa instead of Thranduil’s. And now that Celeborn was gone… “He tricked us.”

 

“I don’t know why Námo does what he does: I only know that I am here and that my memories are once more intact. I know I am Remmen. I know that Thranduil is my husband and Legolas my son. I know this!”

 

Elrond relented eventually, unwilling to cause more commotion whilst Thranduil was asleep and recovering. He signaled for Haldir to join him and stepped into the corridor.

 

“I need to find and look after my son,” said Haldir thoughtfully. “And I reckon I have to do some explaining as well.”

 

Elrond nodded absentmindedly. He had a lot to think about as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas carefully approached the golden-haired Elf, slightly afraid to believe his father had truly returned to them. When he looked at Collofin, he saw his father’s face and eyes. He was at a loss to explain this.

 

“Ernilen dithen. Come and sit with your Ada. I have missed having you close.” Collofin patted the space beside him on the bed. “Be careful not to wake Thranduil.”

 

Legolas complied and sat down, constantly searching the other’s eyes. “Is it really you?”

 

“Yes, pen-neth, it is. I don’t why Námo allowed me to return, but I am here. Search your heart and you will find my words true.”

 

Legolas swallowed nervously. “Ada?”

 

Collofin smiled, pleased. “Yes, ernilen dithen, though I can hardly still call you that. You have become an adult since the last time I held you.” Together with that memory returned feelings of suffering. “Your life and safety mattered most. You do understand that? When those Orcs attacked I could only think of getting you into safety. But I am not a warrior, my son, at least not a good one. I gladly gave my life so you could live.”

 

Legolas’ eyes swam with tears, recalling that awful event. “You died!”

 

“I died saving you,” confirmed Collofin. “My greatest fear was that Thranduil couldn’t deal with my passing. Thank you for keeping him on Arda.”

 

“I didn’t want him to go! I had just lost you and…” Legolas sagged against Collofin and when the other Elf wrapped his arms around him, Legolas inhaled the other’s scent, recognizing it. “It *is* you!”

 

Collofin chuckled softly. “When I left Imladris I had no idea this would happen.”

 

Legolas’ euphoria slowly faded, recalling what had happened only hours ago. “Celeborn died so Thranduil could live, and he lost their child, Ada.”

 

“I gathered as much,” replied Collofin in a heavy tone. “Your nana will need the two of us to help him deal with the loss.”

 

“You had better stop calling him that,” said Legolas teasingly. “Remember the last time he got back at you for calling him nana?”

 

“Oh, yes, I do!” Collofin smiled fondly. He hadn’t been able to sit properly for days! They had never told Legolas the real reason why he needed pillows whenever he sat down. Thranduil had really loved him that night! /That reminds me…I should return that favor when the time is right./ But first they would help Thranduil during his recovery process. The three of them were finally reunited and nothing and no one would ever break them up again!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Pouting, Celeborn paced the confines of the hall. Through the doorway he could look into the corridor, but he felt absolutely no desire to explore the Halls, even though he wondered if he would see old friends and fallen comrades in arms again. /I curse you, Námo, for manipulating me like that!/ Námo had cunningly cleared the way for Remmen to return to Thranduil’s side. /And what of the pain and misery you dealt Thranduil? He lost his child!/

 

Celeborn finally came to a stop, wondering about his next move. It would be best to take the initiative and to stay one step ahead of Námo. Who knew what the Vala had planned for him? He carefully headed for the doorway and looked down the corridor. At the end of it, the wall reflected the warm glow of a fire. /I am dead. My fëa traveled to the Halls of Waiting and I will be here for a very long time. That’s providing I will be allowed to be reborn./ Something, which he doubted very much. He was probably here for all eternity. /I had better make the best of that!/

 

After straightening his robes, he proudly raised his head and started down the corridor.


	27. Chapter 27

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 18

 

 

Námo sensed Celeborn’s approach, but pretended ignorance. He sat opposite one of the newer fëar, which had arrived only a few minutes ago, and which was drowning in shock and confusion. Most of the souls needed a listening ear, and some encouragement before they dared to venture into the more crowded parts of the Halls, where they would be reunited with the loved ones whom they had lost so many years ago. It was one of his tasks – maybe his most important one – to soothe and comfort them. He strengthened them and then sent them off to the main hall, where family and lovers awaited the new arrival.

 

“You will meet your mother and father again, and your brother,” said Námo, still ignoring Celeborn, who had reached the doorway by now. Consoling this new, lost soul was more important than satisfying Celeborn’s curiosity. “Come with me.” Námo rose from his chair and carefully guided the trembling soul into the next room. He let go of the soul’s hand when family and loved ones moved closer to care for the new arrival and he stepped back, smiling as the fëa’s light burned golden. It had taken him a long time before he had found his place here and he still occasionally succumbed to the darkness and despair that lingered here. And that was why he needed Celeborn so badly.

 

Celeborn walked toward Námo, clearing his throat to announce his presence. “I apologize if I am disturbing you.”

 

“You are not,” said the Vala in a soft voice. “He has found his place here.”

 

Celeborn came to a halt beside Námo and studied the Vala. Something wet glistered in the frost-blue eyes, taking him aback. “These Halls are nothing like I thought they would be.”

 

“They were designed to be a cold, lonely place where souls could await their rebirth,” explained Námo, turning toward Celeborn. “When I accepted my work here, their loneliness quickly began to affect me and I had to change the way things were handled. Manwe approved, for which I am eternally grateful.” He signaled for Celeborn to walk with him, which the silver-haired Elf promptly did. Encouraged, he continued, “These tapestries distract the mourning souls and remind them of happier times. There is little I can do to make their stay more pleasant, but I do my best.”

 

Celeborn’s eyes widened, stepping into a large and crowded Hall. In the center stood a large, round table with countless Elves seated around it, eating, drinking and talking. Some of them were playing at dice; others sang bittersweet songs of their past lives. He even spotted several Elves who were holding hands, giving one another loving looks. As his gaze scanned the Hall, he recognized one face after the other and tears appeared in his eyes, finding Ecthelion, Ereinion and several other familiar faces amongst them.

 

“Welcome, my son!” Galadhon approached quickly. Although he was saddened to see his son had entered the Halls of Waiting, his heart also rejoiced, for he was finally reunited with Celeborn. “Your brother is also here and will be most pleased to see you.”

 

Celeborn stared at his father in disbelief. They had lost touch a long time ago, and he hadn’t known his father had died. Acting instinctively, he opened his arms and hugged Galadhon tightly. “Ada.”

 

“My brother!” Galathil now joined them as well and embraced his brother the moment their father released Celeborn. “My heart weeps because you are dead, but it is good to see you again!”

 

Celeborn felt overwhelmed when one by one old friends and comrades in arms walked up to him to welcome him. He soon lost track of Námo, as his friends steered him toward the table, offering him wine, which he quickly downed. Although he rejoiced at seeing his family and friends again, his nerves were thoroughly shaken. His father patted his shoulder and even Ecthelion had joined them, grinning at him. “Too much,” he whispered, upset. “This is too much.” Suddenly the familiar faces around him faded away, the noise died and he found himself seated next to the fireplace. He was back in the hall where he had first talked to Námo, and he felt incredibly grateful that his peace had momentarily been restored.

 

“They can be somewhat enthusiastic,” said Námo calmly.

 

Celeborn raised his head to look at the Vala. Námo had shed his robes and was now wearing a white shirt and gray leggings. The long, white hair was loose and danced against the small of his back. In his hand was a glass filled with ruby-red wine. “It is always a great joy for them to be rejoined with one of their loved ones.”

 

“This is somewhat of a shock,” admitted Celeborn in a hoarse tone. He accepted the glass of wine when Námo offered it to him and stared absentmindedly into the swirling liquid. “I will spend the rest of eternity here?”

 

Námo nodded slowly. “That is most likely. Manwe only rarely allows souls to be reborn and to return to Arda.”

 

“He made an exception for Remmen,” Celeborn said, bitterness audible in his voice.

 

Námo sighed deeply. “I understand that it is still too early for you to understand and accept, but the love Remmen and Thranduil share is extraordinary. Did you know Thranduil tried to gain entry to my Halls on several occasions? He took his life once, and then allowed himself to fade a few more times. Never before did I have such a hard time in keeping someone out of my Halls. It was his greatest desire to be reunited with the love of his life and it broke my heart to repeatedly deny him.”

 

“I didn’t know that,” admitted Celeborn softly. He was slowly beginning to realize there were things about Thranduil he had never known about. “Can I be completely honest with you?”

 

“But of course.” The Vala seated himself opposite Celeborn, drinking in the other’s inner light and the soft glow that was his soul.

 

Celeborn closed his eyes; it was hard on him to admit the truth. “I always wondered why Thranduil accepted me as his lover. There was something about him that I could never quite reach. A core of his being that I could never really touch.”

 

“His heart belongs to Remmen. It always did,” offered Námo, “But for a little while you made his life more bearable. You brought a spark of hope, love and light into his life. You made the right decisions, Celeborn. You did the right thing by loving him.” His tone grew heavy and saddened. “But in your heart you always knew it wouldn’t last forever. Find comfort in the fact that you restored hope and love to his life.”

 

Námo’s surprisingly compassionate and understanding words made Celeborn open his eyes so he could look upon the Vala, who seemed to have taken him under his wing. “Was it really necessary to take the child as well?”

 

Námo’s soft-blue eyes filled with understanding. “The child’s fate was decided long ago. The pregnancy and miscarriage served their purpose and please forgive me for those brutal words, but they speak of the truth.”

 

“I have been masterly manipulated,” said Celeborn from between gnashing teeth.

 

“I plead guilty,” replied Námo in a burdened voice, “but it was the only way. Your soul needed to travel to my Halls—“

 

“And you just knew I would give my life to save Thranduil’s.”

 

“I did,” admitted Námo, “I counted on you to make that offer.”

 

Realizing he was dealing with a formidable opponent, Celeborn decided to act more cautiously around the Vala. /Who knows what else is on his agenda./

 

Námo unwillingly picked up on Celeborn’s thoughts. He hadn’t intended to spy on the silver-haired Elf, but it had just happened. Hiding his own thoughts very carefully, he reveled in the beauty, light and love that Celeborn radiated. /*You* are, meleth./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond sat nursing his herbal tea, staring at Celeborn’s lifeless body. The last time he had felt such shock was when Elros had died. What in Elbereth’s name had transpired here? From what he had gathered Thranduil had been dying and Celeborn had taken his place, dying in his stead. The perfectly healthy former Lord of the Golden Wood had simply sagged against Haldir – dead. And Thranduil had drawn in a new, first breath, as life had been restored to him. /I can’t believe Celeborn is gone./

 

Haldir quietly sat beside the half-Elf, easily reading the other’s emotions on his face. “It’s hard to accept that he is gone,” whispered Haldir, afraid to speak too loudly in the presence of death. “He has been a father to me my whole life.”

 

Absentmindedly, Elrond nodded. “He helped me accept and deal with the loss of my wife. Without him, I would never have found my will to live and love again.”

 

Hazel eyes filled with tears and Haldir angrily wiped at them, not wanting to weep so openly. “I hope he will drive Námo insane!” A soft chuckle fled his lips. “That Vala has no idea whom he dragged into his Halls!”

 

Elrond managed a similar chuckle. It was easier to remember Celeborn’s bright and lively nature than to reminisce on his death. “I wish he had been allowed to stay with us for a longer period time. He left too early.”

 

“He made his decision,” said Legolas, who now entered as well. He came to a standstill in front of the bier and reverently bowed his head. “I owe him my father’s life and for that I will always respect and love him – for as long as I shall live.”

 

“Thank you,” whispered Haldir, who now finally allowed his tears to leave his eyes. He let them flow freely down his face, never wiping them away. Legolas’ words had deeply touched him. “We can do nothing for Celeborn,” he said in an emotional voice, “But we can support Thranduil through this time of loss.”

 

Which reminded Elrond… “Are you absolutely certain Collofin and Remmen are one and the same person?”

 

“I am convinced that Collofin is Remmen reborn, yes,” confirmed Legolas, “I see it in his eyes.”

 

“This is most unexpected,” mumbled Elrond, wondering how Erestor and Glorfindel would react to the news that their adopted son possessed Remmen’s soul.

 

“My father will be most fragile when he wakes up,” said Legolas, thoughtfully, “He suffered a miscarriage and he lost Celeborn. Finding Remmen at his side again won’t make this any easier. He won’t know how to handle this situation.”

 

“We will all be there for him,” said Elrond, reassuringly.

 

Legolas drew in a deep breath and then turned to face Haldir. “Would you look after our son? I have the feeling my father will need me greatly during the next few days.”

 

Haldir rose and wrapped an arm around Legolas, who promptly leaned in and rested his head against the silver-haired Elf’s shoulder. “But of course, my love. I will look after him whilst you concentrate on Thranduil.”

 

“Where is he now?” Legolas looked about, wondering where their son had gone.

 

“He wanted to do something useful, so I showed him to the kitchen and bade him to prepare some food for us.” Haldir had seen the desire to help in Remmen’s eyes and had acted on it. “He already made and brought Elrond some tea. He likes being useful.”

 

“He will make a good husband in time,” said Legolas, smiling pleased. “We raised him well.”

 

“Yes, that we did. Now, why are you still here when you should be at your father’s side?” Seeing Legolas glance worriedly at Celeborn’s body, Haldir added, “Elrond and I will see to him. He will be treated with the utmost respect and we will never forget the sacrifice he made.”

 

“I wish he could have lived. During these last few decades I have come to love and care for him.” Legolas briefly exchanged a look with Elrond, seeing his pain reflected in the gray eyes. “Thank you for performing this last duty.”

 

“It is an honor,” said Elrond in a raw voice. He slowly rose and released a heavy sigh. “Support your father in this dark time and let us care for Celeborn’s body.”

 

Legolas nodded thankfully, swallowing hard, trying to rid himself of the lump of emotions that had formed in his throat and then he left the room, instinctively knowing his parents needed him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Seldom had he felt this lost and confused. Thranduil’s dreams were chaotic and feverish, showing him Námo accepting Celeborn’s offer and carrying the conquered fëa to his Halls. /No, don’t… Don’t do this… This is my fault… not yours! I should have told you the truth! Instead, I kept quiet, never telling you about the risks concerning this pregnancy… I should have died, not you… Never you!/

 

His guilt increased ten-fold, remembering he had lost infinitely more than just Celeborn. He had also lost his child. A terrible sense of loss, grief and guilt washed through him, leaving him adrift on this sea of emotions. /I don’t deserve to live! I should have died too!/ But apparently Námo still didn’t want him. Why? Why did Námo continue to deny him his heart’s desire? All he wanted was to finally enter the Halls of Waiting so he would be reunited with his loved ones; with Celeborn and Remmen. He didn’t want to remain on Arda alone!

 

“Hush now, Nana, all will be well eventually,” soothed Collofin, hoping the old endearment would register with Thranduil. His husband had always thrown a fit when being addressed in that way. “You aren’t alone. Legolas and I are here with you and we won’t desert you. We will support you through the loss. We love you, remember?” He was stretched beside Thranduil, and had long ago wrapped his arms around his love. Thranduil’s hair felt damp and the pale skin bathed in cold sweat, but Collofin didn’t let that stop him and he leaned in to press a chaste kiss on Thranduil’s brow. “Please wake up, meleth.”

 

Thranduil didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to lose himself in this nothingness, but the insistent voice wouldn’t let him be. “Don’t… want… to…”

 

Collofin’s breath caught, hearing Thranduil’s voice and realizing his beloved was finally waking up. He knew from personal experience that he had to be careful and gentle with Thranduil, who was suffering from a very severe shock. “Hush, meleth, I am here. You aren’t alone. And Legolas will join us shortly.” But he wanted a private word with Thranduil first.

 

Thranduil’s eyes, which had closed during his healing sleep, now slowly opened and looked at the Elf who was holding him so tightly. Possessive arms held him close and he stared into incredibly familiar eyes. “Can’t be.”

 

“Believe it, meleth,” said Collofin calmly. “I have returned to you.”

 

Thranduil had a hard time accepting what his eyes were telling him. Tears formed when everything overwhelmed him and caused him to break down. He had lost Celeborn and his unborn child, which had utterly crushed him, but what shocked him even more was the fact that Remmen’s soul had returned to him. “How… can this be?”

 

“I think I would need to question Námo to get the answers to that question. Unfortunately he never confided his plans to me.” Collofin raised a hand and brushed a damp strand of Thranduil’s hair behind a delicately pointed ear. “I remember my stay in the Halls of Waiting, and his promise that I would be reborn when the time was right. I must admit it never occurred to me that you could have taken a new lover. Had I known you were happy with Celeborn I would never have returned.”

 

“Don’t say that!” choked out Thranduil in a strained tone. “I need you! I need you now that… that I lost… lost…” Tears erupted from his eyes and he instinctively buried his face against Collofin’s chest. “I lost… lost them…”

 

“I know you did, meleth, and I sense your pain.” Collofin knew that the pain was still too fresh and too bitter to soothe with words and he settled for holding Thranduil, rubbing comforting circles onto the golden-haired Elf’s back. “Just cry, meleth, acknowledge your pain. I am here to catch you now that you have fallen into shadow.” He had learned a long time ago that it was best to let Thranduil do things in his own time. His beloved would tell him when he was ready to move on to the next stage of his grieving.

 

Thranduil wept quietly. His emotions were a chaotic mess. He felt terribly sad and lost because Celeborn had given his life for him, and then there was the loss of his unborn child, which wanted to make him scream out his pain at this injustice to the heavens. But then there was also joy at having been reunited with the love of his life; Remmen, or Collofin as he was called now. He was flung between these emotions ruthlessly, going from feeling ecstatic at one moment to being guilt-driven for feeling happy at having his greatest love back in his life. “I don’t know… don’t know how to do this… how to cope with this…”

 

“I won’t say that I know what you are feeling, because I don’t,” started Collofin. “But I do know you feel confused, because I feel the same way. We don’t have to make any decisions right now. All we have to do is lie here and comfort each other.”

 

“But… the way I feel… All these mixed emotions.” Thranduil moistened his lips and raised his gaze, looking into eyes he had thought he would never see again. “I feel guilty for being happy at finding you back at my side.”

 

Collofin smiled in understanding. “You are entitled to feel the way you feel. If Celeborn really loved you, he would never begrudge you feeling some spark of hope amidst this immense loss and sorrow. Feel what you feel.” Running his fingers through Thranduil’s hair, he slowly rocked the other Elf. “Feel what you feel,” he singsonged, “And all will be well. Your heart will guide you and guide you well.”

 

Thranduil recognized the soothing quality, which his lover’s voice had also possessed in the past and let it carry him away into a land filled with pleasant dreams.

 

“Yes, that’s it. Sleep… Heal…” Collofin kissed the golden hair and gave Thranduil a concerned look. “Recovery will take time, but you are strong… so strong. You always were, meleth.” Holding Thranduil tight, he guarded his beloved’s dreams.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ada? How does he fare?” Legolas tiptoed closer, eager to catch a glimpse of Thranduil’s face. Dried tears still clung to the long lashes and had left his father’s face tear streaked. “He has wept,” he whispered, taken aback.

 

Collofin signaled for Legolas to sit down on the side of the bed. “He lost his lover and his unborn child. He needs time to mourn.” It didn’t help that Thranduil felt guilty for having him at his side again. “I remember another time of mourning – when Oropher died. He briefly lost his sanity due to the grief.” It had been his love and dedication that had pulled Thranduil through back then.

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Legolas smoothed Thranduil’s hair down his father’s back. “I can’t bear to see him like this.”

 

“He needs time, pen-neth. And time is the one thing he has in surplus. First, he needs to properly mourn the losses he suffered.”

 

“And you will stay here with him, Ada?” The fact that he had so easily and quickly accepted his father’s return surprised him. But maybe it was the familiar expression in those eyes… or the sound of Collofin’s voice, which were the same as Remmen’s. It was easy to accept his return. So incredibly easy. It almost felt like Remmen had never left. He wondered if Thranduil would accept Remmen’s return that easily as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Soft sobbing drew Collofin’s attention and he instantly tightened his embrace, hugging Thranduil closer. He didn’t offer his grieving lover any words of comfort, knowing Thranduil wouldn’t really hear them. So he remained quiet, stroked the long hair and simply held him close, putting every ounce of his love into that embrace.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hours later the sobbing began to fade away. Thranduil had buried his fingers in Collofin’s tunic a long time ago, and clutched the fabric tightly to make sure his beloved couldn’t leave. Moving weakly, he raised his head to meet Collofin’s eyes.

 

“Would you like something to drink? A cup of hot, spiced, tea perhaps?” Collofin remembered that it had been Thranduil’s favorite. “Maybe it will warm you from the inside.”

 

Thranduil’s pleading eyes locked on his lover’s. “You… are still… here.”

 

“I will stay at your side, meleth.” Collofin graced Thranduil with a stunning smile and then made eye contact with Legolas, who had appeared in the doorway at hearing their voices. “Legolas? Your Nana is awake again.”

 

“Don’t…call me… that…” whispered Thranduil softly. “I am… not… a… Nana!” He tried to glare at his reborn beloved, but a tired smile formed instead.

 

“Ada?” Legolas carefully sat down on the side of the bed, and rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. “You gave me a fright.”

 

Thranduil managed to rest his hand atop of his son’s. “I… need time…”

 

Legolas swallowed hard, and then nodded once. “We will remain at your side. I will get you your favorite tea in the meantime.”

 

Thranduil nodded thankfully. “I would… love some.”

 

Legolas forced himself to leave his father’s side and exited the room, trusting Collofin to look after Thranduil.

 

Now that Legolas had gone, Thranduil closed his eyes, feeling fatigued and lost. Collofin respected that and continued to hold his love close. Words were redundant, he sensed Thranduil’s pain and misery, and respected them.

 

Legolas returned, carrying a tray with cups and a hot, steaming pot of tea. After placing the tray onto the side table, he poured a cup, which he handed to Collofin instead of Thranduil, seeing the distant expression in the green eyes.

 

Collofin whispered a thank you and carefully placed the rim of the cup against Thranduil’s lips. “Sip slowly.”

 

Thranduil automatically obeyed, as he trusted his reborn lover unconditionally. So many things had happened these last few days! Slowly, his eyes focused again as the soothing, warm liquid flowed down his throat. It revived him somewhat and he grew more aware of Collofin and Legolas, who closely monitored him. Growing upset for worrying them, he gave them what he hoped was a warm, reassuring smile.

 

Collofin continued to stroke Thranduil’s hair, wondering if the weakened Elf would be interested in taking a bath. Blood, left over from the surgery Elrond had performed, still clung to him. Or would his beloved prefer a sponge bath? How weak *was* Thranduil? He waited for the golden-haired Elf to finish his herbal tea and then asked his questions.

 

Thranduil gave Collofin a tired look. “Bath, definitely.”

 

“I will let the pool fill,” said Legolas quickly, grateful he could help. He disappeared into the bathroom and soon, running water could be heard filling the pool.

 

Thranduil’s weary eyes met Collofin’s, realizing he would shortly be confronted by the fact that he had truly lost his child. His abdomen was flat again and dried blood clung to his skin. “I can’t do this alone.”

 

“You don’t have to.” Collofin pushed back the sheet, revealing Thranduil’s naked body and quickly lifted him in his arms. For one moment he felt overwhelmed – having his beloved in his arms again.

 

Thranduil briefly felt embarrassed for being lifted and taken care of as if he were still a child, but then recalled that this was his love – Remmen – and he had never felt ashamed of needing his support before. It was Remmen who had pulled him through when Oropher had died. He rested his head against Collofin’s chest, trusting the other Elf to look after him.

 

Warm water, pleasantly scented with sandalwood, welcomed him a few moments later. His eyes closed and he released a contented sigh. Tender hands began to wash his hair and he surrendered to Collofin, who performed this task for him with old ease.

 

“Legolas? Fetch warm towels and a sleeping robe for you Nana.” Collofin cast an amused look at Thranduil, who growled, softly, at being called that. /There is still fire left in you. We just need to nurture it./

 

Legolas intercepted Collofin’s eyes and nodded once, thinking exactly the same thing.


	28. Chapter 28

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 19

 

 

“I don’t want to rest in that bed any more,” said Thranduil in a surprisingly strong voice. He had shared that bed with Celeborn for too many years and it reminded him of Celeborn’s absence. “I just can’t.”

 

Collofin nodded in understanding and then looked to Legolas to find a solution. “Is there a room we can use?”

 

“Follow me,” said Legolas, opening the door as he looked over his shoulder at his parents. Thranduil was dressed in a soft, cream-colored silk sleeping robe and Collofin had wrapped a blanket around the recovering Elf before carrying him out of the bathroom.

 

Thranduil was content to let his beloved and son take care of him. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You are vile! You are tormenting him! Why? He has already lost so much!” Celeborn turned, faced Námo and gave him a poisonous look. “Why do you continue to hurt him?” He tried to stare the Vala into submission, but failed.

 

“And you aren’t being truthful with yourself,” said Námo, chiding him. “You felt hurt when you realized that Thranduil was delighted to have Remmen at his side again!”

 

“Of course I feel hurt! I died only two days ago!” Celeborn’s rage mounted. “I spent the last five decades loving him and then he brushes me aside for Remmen!”

 

Námo drew in a deep breath; knowing this confrontation was going to be quite ugly. “He is mourning your death. Damn it, Celeborn! The love of his life returned to him after four millennia -- the father of his son! His mate! And you are dead, accept that!”

 

Celeborn paced like a caged animal with bared teeth. “I died for him.”

 

“That was *your* choice, never his. Don’t put the blame on him! If you need to blame someone for your own decisions, blame me!” Námo mentally prepared himself for whatever emotional storm would follow. Celeborn was highly strung and extremely unpredictable. He had no idea what would happen next.

 

Celeborn moved suddenly – unexpectedly – and pounced on him. Strong hands grabbed his wrists, making sure he couldn’t move. Námo held his breath in appreciation of that raw potential in Celeborn, which he had first seen millennia ago, but until now he had never had a chance to act on it. “Your pride is hurt because Thranduil still loves Remmen. You have been blind, don’t you know that? His heart always belonged to Remmen. He never stopped carrying his beloved’s portrait with him, nor did he ever truly stop mourning his death!” He knew exactly what words to use to trigger Celeborn’s feelings. The silver-haired Elf didn’t disappoint him.

 

Anger, hurt and need battled within Celeborn, and as Námo was the only one close he couldn’t help take but it out on the Vala. Ancient instincts took over as he brutally claimed Námo’s narrow, pale lips, eager to bruise and possess them. He would make the Vala pay for ruining his life!

 

Námo’s eyes widened under the onslaught as Celeborn’s emotions washed over him, and he reveled in them. It had been so long since he had last felt such intense feelings and he drank of them, taking them within himself and cherishing them. /You have no idea what you do to me, Celeborn./ But he couldn’t give himself away. The moment he did, Celeborn would realize his intent and pull back. Biting down on Celeborn’s bottom lip, he drew blood.

 

Celeborn growled, and his eyes widened. No longer in control of his actions – or his emotions – he pushed a knee between Námo’s legs, forcing them apart. Awkwardly pinned against the wall, the Vala was now at his mercy – at least in his clouded mind he thought so.

 

Námo allowed this, as eager to carry on as Celeborn was. He surrendered, though he realized that in Celeborn’s mind it was a forced surrender, which was just fine with him.

 

“You will pay for doing this to me – to him!” Celeborn’s hands slipped beneath Námo’s tunic, encountering surprisingly subtle and warm skin. Thoughts of Thranduil momentarily flitted through his mind and he briefly lost himself in that sweet sensation. Celeborn had always loved a challenge and Námo presented the ultimate one! Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the Vala’s leggings and he resolutely pushed them down, exposing Námo to him. To his utter surprise, the other was hard, and drops of pre-ejaculate glistened on the head of the hard flesh. “What?”

 

Námo surged against him, and pale blue eyes bored into his. The realization was sudden and devastating. “You used me too! You are still using me!” Celeborn’s eyes widened in understanding. “You played each and every one of us! You knew exactly what you wanted – what you were after!” Celeborn growled, enraged, now that the truth had settled in. “You never cared about Thranduil or Remmen!”

 

“No, I did. I still do,” whispered Námo, trying to regain his composure, but that wasn’t easy as Celeborn suddenly curled his fingers around his throbbing erection, stroking hard and fast. “What are you doing?” Even though Celeborn’s touch was rough and uncaring, it caused a spectacular effect in his groin and he instinctively thrust into Celeborn’s hand, panting hard.

 

“It was *me* you were after!” Although Celeborn felt enraged at being played, a part of him couldn’t help being flattered that the Vala had gone to such lengths to bring him here.

 

“It *is* you that I am after. It always has been you.” Námo’s eyes took on a deeper shade of blue and he leaned limply against Celeborn, who still had a tight hold on him. When the strokes picked up in speed and intensity, he threw back his head in surrender. “Please…” So long, it had been so long!

 

“No,” said Celeborn sharply, releasing the hot flesh from his hand and stepping back, which caused Námo to slide down the wall, panting hard, looking flushed and utterly vulnerable. /And desirable,/ Celeborn had to admit. But he shook his head, trying to rid himself of that thought. Námo wasn’t desirable. The Vala had cunningly manipulated him! “No, I won’t play your games any more.” Turning around, he left the hall, determined to get even with Námo for taking Thranduil away from him.

 

“No! Don’t leave me like this! Don’t you dare leave me!” Námo stared in shock after Celeborn’s retreating back. “Come back and finish what you started!”

 

“No!” called out Celeborn, glaring at the disheveled Vala. “Finish it yourself!”

 

Námo’s wide, blue eyes momentarily filled with an echo of tears. “Please come back,” he whispered, barely audible. “Don’t you know I love you? Don’t you know you belong with me? Here, at my side? Helping me carry this burden and lighting up my life just a little? Do you know how lonely it is to dwell here – surrounded by death, longing and pain? You are strong, I know you are. I have watched you over the years. You could learn to love me… Please!” But Celeborn had long gone, and so had his arousal. “Don’t leave me, please…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn sat pressed deep into the comfort of a chair, refusing to look at Námo when the Vala hesitantly entered the room. “What you did was wrong!”

 

“Maybe,” admitted Námo in a choked tone, carefully remaining standing near the doorway.

 

“Why?”

 

“I need you here,” whispered Námo.

 

“Why?” Celeborn glared at the Vala. “Why did you do this?”

 

Námo carefully considered his options. “This always was about you. Not Thranduil.” Seeing Celeborn raise an eyebrow, he continued, “I knew you would fall for Thranduil, but if you are truly honest with yourself, you will have to admit it never deepened into the profound love you had hoped for.”

 

Celeborn considered Námo’s words. He didn’t want to admit it, but the Vala was right. “That doesn’t give you the right to ruin our lives.”

 

“Did I? Ruin your lives?” Námo inched closer, and a gleam returned to his eyes. “I returned Remmen to Thranduil and Legolas, and they have the chance to become truly happy again. But Thranduil still mourns losing you, and if you don’t set him free, his guilt will devour the little happiness he has found again. I didn’t ruin his life.”

 

Celeborn bit his bottom lip, but remained silent and motionless, studying the other; and for the first time noticing the slumped shoulders and fatigue in the frost-blue eyes. “You ruined mine.”

 

“Did I?” whispered Námo, still inching closer. “You tried to make the best of your love for Thranduil, but it wasn’t meant to be. In your heart you know that.”

 

“And that’s why you tricked me into coming here?” Celeborn wanted the truth and nothing but the truth.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t leave Thranduil willingly, and truth be told, the child was destined to die. Not even I can change such a fate. I saw my chance and used it. It was you who uttered the words, the offer. I merely accepted.”

 

“You manipulated me into that position!” Celeborn jumped to his feet and glowered at the Vala.

 

“But you are here now,” said Námo, wondering if Celeborn would ever forgive him. “You should make the best of it.”

 

“The best… Don’t you mean warm your bed and keep you ‘satisfied’?” Unbidden, the memory of Námo melting against him returned and he swore he still felt an echo of the twitching, hot erection in his hand.

 

Námo held Celeborn’s stare, never looking away. “I had hopes, but I had better let go of them now.” He had made himself vulnerable, had hoped for understanding, but instead he had made one mistake after another. “I won’t bother you any more, Celeborn, and I will grant you one last opportunity to speak with Thranduil. The next time he falls asleep you will be able to communicate with him. Use that last moment wisely.”

 

“What do you mean – wisely?” Celeborn wasn’t certain what to make of this offer and Námo’s repentant attitude.

 

“I am giving you one last chance to talk to Thranduil. You can either ease his mind, let him go and give he and Remmen your blessing, or you can increase his guilt tenfold and make him miserable all his life. Thranduil tried to take his life so he could enter here before, so I advise caution.”

 

Celeborn finally understood. “Are you saying that Thranduil might… take his life—“

 

“He did that once before when Remmen died. I don’t know how he will react when you tell him the truth – that I tricked the three of you. His guilt would most probably consume him though. You might want to think this over before you act.” Shamefaced at having allowed himself to be so vulnerable earlier, Námo straightened his clothes, turning on his heel to leave. “I won’t seek you out any more. If you wish to talk to me, I will grant you that, but I will make myself scarce around you.” He was drowning in melancholy and hurt, but refused to show it.

 

Celeborn’s eyebrow arched questioningly. /What are your plans, Námo?/ He just knew he hadn’t seen the last of the Vala when Námo disappeared into the corridor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One hour later, Celeborn rose from the chair he had been sitting in. He had carefully thought over everything that Námo had said in regards to Thranduil and Remmen and he had made a decision. “I want to speak with Thranduil – now, Námo.”

 

His surroundings faded and he found himself in one of the spare bedrooms, usually set aside for guests. He blinked once, never expecting the sight that greeted him. In the bed were three Elves. Collofin -- whom he now knew was Remmen -- Thranduil and Legolas. All three of them were hugging one another, providing warmth and closeness. Seeing them, holding each other in such an intimate, trusting way caused a lump of emotions in his throat and everything finally fell into place. Námo had tried to explain, had tried to show him, but the Vala had failed. But now that he saw this scene with his own two eyes, understanding slowly dawned.

 

This family had been reunited after millennia of pain and suffering. Even though Thranduil was hurt and still recovering, the gentlest of smiles had formed on his face, whilst holding Remmen close. The three of them seemed so right – so complete – that it unexpectedly brought tears to his eyes.

 

Had he been too hard on Námo for orchestrating this? Now that he saw the three of them reunited, he thought he understood why the Vala had done this. Yes, Thranduil had loved him, but sadness had always clung to the golden-haired Elf. More than once had he found Thranduil staring at Remmen’s portrait, whispering softly.

 

He swallowed past the lump of emotions in his throat and moistened his lips. He had planned to tell Thranduil that Námo had tricked them, but he could no longer do that. Thranduil and Remmen did belong together. No, Thranduil, Collofin and Legolas belonged together. They were a family and shared a tight bond. He had only been a temporary lover and Thranduil had always treated him in the best possible way. The golden-haired Elf had even wanted to give him a child! Thranduil had loved him, but it was Remmen who held his heart.

 

Approaching the bed, he came to a standstill when he was closest to Thranduil. He hoped Námo’s magic would ensure that Collofin and Legolas’ continued to sleep, as he didn’t want them to wake up.

 

“Thranduil? Would you please wake up?” He involuntarily held his breath when the green eyes gained awareness, and he instantly noticed that the emerald sparkle had returned to them. But then Thranduil’s features contorted and tears flowed from the big eyes.

 

“Celeborn? I…” Thranduil trembled fiercely, realizing the predicament he was in, with Remmen tightly snuggled against him.

 

“It is all right,” whispered Celeborn softly, smiling. “I understand.”

 

“You do?” Confusion shone from Thranduil’s eyes. “I don’t. And I am sorry! I never wanted… You should have… And Remmen… No, Collofin… I don’t love you less because of him… I…” Panicking, Thranduil’s gaze shifted from Celeborn to Collofin. He prayed to the Valar that neither his beloved, nor his son would wake up. “You died,” he whispered, upset, “Or didn’t you?”

 

Celeborn pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. Needing to establish some sort of bodily contact, he curled his fingers around Thranduil’s cold and clammy ones. Thranduil seemed to startle at the touch, probably realizing he was really here and not a vision. “Be at peace, my love. I mean you well.”

 

Tremors coursed through Thranduil’s body, unable to shake off his fear and panic yet. “I… am so sorry…”

 

“Why?”

 

“I feel… happy because… because Remmen returned to me… But I don’t want to feel like that!” Thranduil was rambling now, afraid Celeborn would judge him and be cross with him. All rational thought quickly left. “I feel like I have betrayed you!”

 

Celeborn quickly soothed the upset Elf by rubbing the long fingers. “That’s why I said that I understand. I do.” Seeing Thranduil’s puzzled expression, he carefully weighed his words, knowing he couldn’t reveal everything he knew. “Remmen returning to your life at this point is a blessing – one I approve of. Don’t feel guilty for loving him, for being happy to have him in your life again. I died for you so you could live and be happy. The best way for you to honor my sacrifice is to be happy and to live every day to the fullest.” Thranduil’s big eyes stared at him with barely concealed hope. “Oh, I do love you. I always have and I love you enough to set you free. Seeing the three of you like this, I know that this is right. You have my blessing, love.”

 

Speechless, Thranduil looked at Celeborn. “I don’t understand.”

 

“But I do, my heart.” Celeborn leaned in closer and pressed a kiss onto Thranduil’s brow. “Promise me you won’t drown in sorrow and guilt for what happened. Promise me you will live each day to the fullest, love Remmen and Legolas, and to occasionally think of me. Fondly, I hope.”

 

Tears glistened in Thranduil’s eyes. “How can you say that? I… I should have died, not you.”

 

“Promise me, love. Promise me.” Celeborn expectantly looked at Thranduil. “I want you to be happy and I know Remmen can make you happy. He did so before, didn’t he?”

 

Thranduil nodded weakly. “Yes, he did.”

 

“Then promise me.” Celeborn squeezed Thranduil’s hand reassuringly. “Promise!”

 

“I promise!” Thranduil yelped the words softly. “I promise,” he repeated in a calmer voice. “If that is what you want, I promise.”

 

“Thank you,” whispered Celeborn, gracing Thranduil with a warm smile. “Be happy, love.”

 

“And what about you? You are… dead.” Thranduil cringed. “I never wanted you to die for me.”

 

Celeborn’s smile became wicked. “You don’t need to worry about me, love. I have the feeling my death won’t be boring at all.” He grinned smugly. “Death might be very interesting and entertaining indeed.” Maybe it was time to take control of the situation and play Námo in turn.

 

“Celeborn, I…” Thranduil still felt confused.

 

“Sleep now, love,” whispered Celeborn, “Sleep and dream of happier days. Know that I don’t blame you for anything. I am sorry you weren’t allowed to keep our child, and you will need Remmen and Legolas’ support to pull you through. Let them in. Let them love you. And remember me kindly.” Brushing Thranduil’s brow with his fingertips, his voice took on a hypnotic tone. “Sleep… Sleep now.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes filled with deep sleep, and he smiled contentedly.

 

“I was a fool,” whispered Celeborn, “but I didn’t understand that.” He still didn’t approve of Námo’s tactics, but he now understood why the Vala had applied them.

 

His surroundings faded once more and he found himself in the Great Hall. His father, brother and friends welcomed him back and he let them fuss over him for a while. As he settled down in a comfortable chair, listening to his father’s voice, his thoughts drifted back to Námo. Maybe he had been too judgmental. Maybe they needed to talk again. Scanning the Hall again, he realized that Námo had kept his word. The Vala was nowhere in sight; giving him his precious privacy. Frustrated, he realized another game had started in which he was the hunter and Námo the hunted. He grinned, realizing he was more than up for the chase.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas was the first to wake to Arien’s warm, caressing, rays. Regaining consciousness, the first thing he saw was Thranduil’s tear-streaked face. Therefore he was surprised to also see a warm smile on his father’s face at the same time. What had happened during Thranduil’s sleep? Unwilling to wake his recovering father just yet; he carefully shook Collofin. “Ada?”

 

Collofin stirred and was about to stretch when he realized that Thranduil was still soundly asleep in his arms, so he remained motionless instead. “He is smiling through the tears,” he whispered softly, realizing his unexpected arrival had caused part of Thranduil’s emotional uproar. “I wish I had known of Námo’s plans. I might have prevented the loss of his child”

 

“But you didn’t,” said Legolas, gently disentangling himself from them. “The two of you must be hungry. I will arrange for food and fresh water.”

 

“Add a goblet of miruvor. Elrond brought some from Imladris, hoping the draught would strengthen him.”

 

Legolas nodded once. “I will also inform Elrond that Thranduil is still asleep. Elrond will probably want to check on him.”

 

Collofin understood. “And you should also inform Haldir.”

 

“He is looking after our son at the moment.” A thoughtful expression appeared in his eyes. “When the time is right I want to introduce you to Remmen.”

 

Collofin smiled brilliantly. “I am honored that you named your firstborn after me.”

 

“Ada didn’t want me to at first, but he relented later.” Legolas carefully rose from the bed and straightened his tunic. “I will return shortly with food.”

 

“I will keep an eye on your Nana,” promised Collofin.

 

“I… heard… that,” muttered Thranduil, still half asleep. “Stop… calling me… that.” He had accepted a long time ago that he would never be called that name again, but everything had changed now that Remmen was back. Opening his eyes -- which had closed during his healing sleep -- they focused on Collofin and the sight took his breath away. He was so grateful that Námo had returned his original form to his beloved. The Collofin he was now looking at was a perfect representation of Remmen. “Love… you,” he whispered in a weakened voice, recalling the vision he’d had in which Celeborn had given them his blessing. “I love… you so much… More than life itself.”

 

Realizing all was well, Legolas left the bedroom, eager to serve his parents some food. It had been hours since they had last eaten a bite and Thranduil needed to regain his strength. Entering the corridor, he nearly collided with Haldir and Remmen, who apparently were on their way to see him. Legolas hugged his son, and then gave Haldir a warm smile. “All is well.”

 

Haldir sighed, relieved. “All is well with both of them?”

 

“Yes, and I am on my way to the kitchen to fetch them some food. Haldir, would you ask Elrond for some miruvor? And Remmen, will you join me on this errand?”

 

Remmen gave him a curious glance. “Can I see them?” He was greatly worried about his grandfather and extremely curious where Collofin was concerned.

 

“Yes, you may, but first we will head for the kitchen.”

 

“I will arrange for the miruvor,” promised Haldir and whilst Legolas and Remmen headed for the kitchen, Haldir sought out Elrond’s guest room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I will come with you, Haldir. I want to see for myself how Thranduil is coping with these developments.” Elrond, clad in a simple, gray tunic, took the lead and Haldir had no other option than to hurry after the Peredhel.

 

“Legolas said that Thranduil fares well. Having Remmen back in his life will make a difference in how Thranduil will deal with the loss.”

 

“I need to see for myself,” mumbled Elrond, now knocking on the door in order to announce their arrival. “It is I, Elrond.”

 

“You may enter,” said Collofin, who was still in bed with Thranduil, holding his beloved tightly.

 

Elrond immediately searched the green eyes as he sat down on the side of the bed. Thranduil was awake and hopefully also coherent. “How do you fare today, Thranduil?”

 

“I had a vision,” whispered Thranduil. Hearing Collofin, Elrond and Haldir sharply draw in their breath he realized he had their full attention. “I dreamt of Celeborn. He told me he wanted me to be happy and love Collofin. I would honor his sacrifice in that way.” His big, green eyes sought out Elrond. “Was my mind playing tricks on me? But he sounded so real. He even felt real!”

 

“I don’t know, Thranduil,” said Elrond in all honesty. “It might have been a dream; it might have been Celeborn’s doing. Maybe Námo granted him this one chance to say goodbye to you.” He carefully considered this matter. “I have known Celeborn for a very long time, much like you, Thranduil, and I dare say that he would want you to be happy.”

 

Thranduil nodded once. “I feel the same way, but I still feel guilty for being alive whilst he is dead.”

 

“Celeborn made his decision,” said Haldir firmly, “No one forced him to trade places. It was something he wanted and did. You have to accept that.”

 

“You need to concentrate on your recovery,” said Collofin, pressing a chaste kiss onto the top of Thranduil’s head. “Concentrate on the love that surrounds you and always remember Celeborn gave his life so you would live. It is only right to honor him by accepting what you have been given.”

 

Elrond gave Collofin a long look. It was amazing how the young Elf had changed since meeting Thranduil. It was as if a part of his personality that had been hidden for all these years had finally emerged. Collofin seemed at peace for the first time. That lonely expression had faded from his eyes.

 

Thranduil’s gaze shifted from Collofin to Haldir and finally came to rest upon Elrond. He moistened his lips, nervous to make a request and in the end, he lacked courage to speak the words.

 

But Elrond had seen and asked, “What is amiss, my friend?”

 

“I was wondering about something…” Uncertain how to phrase this, he began to pick at the fabric of his sleeve.

 

Collofin -- recognizing Thranduil’s nervousness -- said, “You can speak freely. You know that. There is no reason to feel nervous.”

 

Thranduil sighed deeply and then met Elrond’s calm eyes. “I can’t stay here. This place holds so many memories of Celeborn that I feel like I am choking in here. I expect him to enter the room at any given moment, or to call my name. I still sense his presence. Would you… Would you allow me to live in Imladris?”

 

Elrond smiled brilliantly. “But of course. I told you a long time ago that you are always welcome in the Last Homely House!” He rested a hand on top of Thranduil’s experimentally. The weakened Elf was still experiencing the after effects of shock and needed to be treated gently and with consideration. “We will leave for Imladris the moment you feel rested and are fit to travel.” Then he looked at Collofin, “And you will have a lot of explaining to do where Erestor and Glorfindel are concerned.”

 

“I will explain this to them, and I am confident that they will understand,” said Collofin, smiling fondly at Elrond. The he focused on Thranduil again. “You made a very wise decision, meleth.” The idea had occurred to him as well, but he hadn’t been certain if he should bring it up. “You will like Imladris.”

 

Thranduil nodded, fatigued. “I am sleepy… But I don’t want to go back to sleep.” What if Celeborn was waiting for him in his dreams? And what if this time Celeborn wasn’t that mellow?

 

“Losto, veleth. Beriathon in elei lîn.” (Sleep, love. I will guard your dreams.) Collofin leaned in closer and claimed Thranduil’s lips in a slow and long kiss.

 

Elrond cleared his throat and briefly averted his eyes. Haldir simply chuckled.

 

When Collofin finally released Thranduil’s lips again, the golden-haired Elf’s eyes had closed once more in sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 20

 

 

Námo felt Celeborn’s eyes upon him, but he ignored the silver-haired Elf. He’d had his chance with Celeborn and he had made one mistake after another. Although his heart ached, knowing the one he craved so close, he didn’t approach Celeborn.

 

When he had first noticed the silver-haired Prince of Doriath millennia ago, he had felt the attraction instantly. But Celeborn had married Galadriel and later on he had chosen Thranduil as his mate. The Vala had realized a long time ago that he had no chance with Celeborn as long as the Elf was one of the living. His scheming had resulted in Celeborn’s death and he had hoped he would now have a chance with his secret love. But he had to admit that what he had done was wrong. He couldn’t force or manipulate Celeborn into returning his feelings.

 

Moving through the large Hall, he wondered why it was his fate to be alone. Although he was married to Vaire, there had never been any love between them. She was content to weave Arda’s history into the tapestries that adorned his Halls of Waiting and the two of them barely spoke, doing so only when there was an urgent need for communication.

 

Another soul arrived, demanding his attention, and he moved toward it to capture it in a loving embrace. Once the soul had calmed down and accepted its fate, it manifested in the form it had possessed during life. Námo patiently guided and counseled it, until the soul was ready to join his loved ones, who already dwelt here. Once his task was done, he felt even more fatigued. Guiding, and calming these distressed souls took its toll on him, and as he scanned Arda for more dying Elves, he found none. Maybe he was finally being granted a moment of peace and quiet.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts and fatigued that he stopped monitoring Celeborn, never realizing the silver-haired Elf continued to follow him down the corridors.

 

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Celeborn trailed after Námo for long minutes, wondering where the Vala was headed. When Námo finally left the corridor and entered another room, he cautiously followed. Looking about, he frowned, but then he realized just where he was. He had heard tales of this Hall when he was little. The elders had told him that in the vast caverns both Námo and his sister Nienna had their abode, but Vê was the name Námo had given his. His eyes widened, seeing Námo sit in a sable Hall. A Hall that was only lit with a single vessel, placed in the centre, wherein lay some few gleaming drops of the pale dew of Telporion. The Hall was draped with dark vapors and the tapestries of his wife, and the floors and columns were of jet. It was a gloomy place and Celeborn shuddered lightly, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

 

Námo leaned back into the comfort of his chair, and released a tormented sigh. His hands rose to meet his temples and the Vala impatiently massaged them.

 

It was then that Celeborn realized how tired and weary Námo looked. His shoulders had slumped forward and the Vala bowed his head as if in surrender, occasionally moaning softly. The large, pale blue eyes carried a hint of exhaustion, which almost caused Celeborn to reveal himself. The haunted eyes stared at the opposite wall and eventually Námo’s breathing deepened, evening out. /He is asleep, resting./ Until now, Celeborn had never thought the Valar required sleep.

 

Stealthily, he sneaked closer until he was hidden behind the heavy tapestries. He now had a splendid view and could easily see the deep lines etched onto Námo’s brow. He was surprised to notice that he felt some worry and he wondered why Námo had truly orchestrated his death. The Vala seemed lonely and exhausted. Was there another reason why Námo wanted him here?

 

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Several hours later, Celeborn was still watching Námo, but he had left the confines of the tapestries and had taken a seat opposite the Vala. He wasn’t certain if he wanted Námo to wake up, because he didn’t know how to react to the Vala, but at the same time he wanted to address some matters. For starters, he wanted the truth.

 

Tremors moved through him. The Hall felt depressing, and as it was bereft of Arien’s light and warmth, depression and gloom reined here supreme. His attention was drawn back to Námo when the Vala stirred. The eyes came back to life, and after blinking once, fastened on him.

 

Námo wanted to ask why Celeborn was here, but refrained from doing so. Instead, he pushed back his chair, rose, and put more distance between them. Making up his mind, he headed for the doorway.

 

“Wait.”

 

Celeborn’s order came as a surprise, and Námo froze in his movement. As his back was turned to Celeborn, he looked questioningly at the former Lord from over his shoulder. Still, he remained quiet.

 

“Please sit down again.” This time, Celeborn phrased it as a request, and not as an order.

 

Námo was reluctant to comply, but eventually returned and remained standing behind his chair, using it as a barrier between them.

 

“I want the truth. Why did you bring me here?” Námo had hinted he had need for him here, but had never explained his words. It was obvious there was some attraction on the Vala’s part; was it lust? Or was it more? How could it be more?

 

“That doesn’t matter any more,” whispered Námo, “You made it very clear that you are here against your will and I vowed to leave you alone. You shouldn’t seek me out when I do my best to keep my distance.” Melancholy, depression and a sense of intense loss had taken hold of Námo. These feelings had first appeared decades ago and he had fooled himself into hoping that Celeborn would be his guiding light in this darkness. Wasn’t it ironic, he mused, that the Vala himself had become prey to those dark and depressing emotions that were usually reserved for the dead souls?

 

“I find myself curious. Humor me.” Celeborn considered rising from his chair and standing close to Námo, but his instincts warned him that the other wouldn’t allow him near at the moment.

 

“Then you will remain curious, for I won’t enlighten you. And you will have to excuse me now. A new fëa is on its way to my Halls and I am already remiss in not guiding it here.” And this fëa was young, so incredibly young. It would take most of his experience, cunning, and care to prepare it to be reunited with its loved ones. Not waiting for Celeborn to answer him, Námo left, leaving Celeborn seated alone in his lonely Hall.

 

Vexed, Celeborn cursed softly. Námo wasn’t going to make this easy!

 

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“Sip slowly,” instructed Elrond, who watched closely as Collofin assisted Thranduil in drinking the miruvor that would hopefully further strengthen the recovering Elf.

 

Legolas, not bothering to knock before entering the room, quickly headed for the bed and placed the tray with food items on the side table. Behind him, Remmen entered quietly, hoping he wasn’t intruding.

 

Thranduil’s eyes lit with joy at seeing his grand son. “It has been too long, pen-neth. Come, sit with me.” He patted the space on the bed next to him.

 

Remmen immediately complied and sat down. But his gaze was directed at Collofin and not his grand-father. “Are you…?” Unable to finish his question, he swallowed hard and gave the other Elf a hopeful look.

 

“Yes, I am the one once known as Remmen. Námo allowed me to return to my family. But in this life I am called Collofin.” He smiled kindly, seeing Remmen’s eyes widen. “You carry my name, pen-neth, it is yours.”

 

Remmen smiled timidly. “My father told me many tales about you, including how you died protecting him.”

 

“He would do the same thing for you, pen-neth,” Collofin replied, giving Legolas a weak smile. “At the time, I had no choice, no time to think. The only thing that mattered to me was making certain my child remained alive.” During his little speech he had felt Thranduil’s hold on him tighten and he rubbed his beloved’s knuckles in an effort to comfort him. “I returned, meleth,” he said, reminding Thranduil, “And I won’t leave you ever again.”

 

Thranduil rested his head against Collofin’s shoulder and briefly closed his eyes. /Námo, thank you for returning him to me./ He could only hope Námo had heard him and felt his sincerity.

 

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Cradling the Elfling’s fëa in his arms, and slowly helping it rebuild itself, Námo was surprised to receive Thranduil’s thoughts. The gratitude that shone through the thoughts made him smile and gave him new strength. He had begun doubting himself and his recently made decisions, but knowing Thranduil felt this blissful at having Remmen at his side again, he knew he had done the right thing. If only Celeborn had understood. Had given him a single chance. But the silver-haired Elf had made himself very clear and he would leave Celeborn alone from this moment on.

 

The young soul suddenly clutched at him, and he reacted by soothing it, calming and cradling it. Lending it the strength it needed to continue its journey, he took it by the hand and reunited the Elfling’s fëa with its loved ones. He watched a little longer to make sure everything was fine, and once he was confident that the soul had found its rightful place, he turned around and found himself facing Celeborn once more. The former Lord of the Golden Wood was staring questioningly at him and didn’t step aside. In the end, he moved around Celeborn and finally left the Hall. He was tired; tired enough to lie down and never return to his depressing duty.

 

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“What is troubling you, my son?” Galadhon sat down beside Celeborn, who was blankly staring into the fire. He had accepted his fate a long time ago and had found comfort here, among his friends and family, but he reckoned it would take his son more time to accept his death. He was determined to be patient with Celeborn.

 

“I don’t understand him,” said Celeborn, broodingly.

 

“Him,” said Galadhon knowingly. “Námo.”

 

Curiously, Celeborn raised his gaze and met his father’s eyes. He was finally beginning to accept that he was dead and dwelt here. Even talking to his father was becoming easier. “What do you know?”

 

“I have seen the way he looks at you,” said Galadhon slowly, pressing back into the comfort of his chair. “I will be honest with you, my son…”

 

“Yes?” Celeborn frowned, wondering what his father wanted to tell him. He knew Galadhon well enough to easily detect the rueful expression in his father’s eyes.

 

“I have been here for quite some time,” he started with a sorrowful grin. “When I arrived I was scared, and easily intimidated. I had heard tales about the Halls of Waiting and was afraid I would spend eternity in a horrific place. Then Námo came to me. He soothed me, talked to me and explained things to me. All that time his soul gently brushed against mine. He comforted me and I was able to make myself a place here.”

 

Celeborn’s frown deepened. “I have seen him welcome and take care of the new souls, but—“

 

Galadhon interrupted. “In that case you must also have seen his weariness. This fatigue that clings to him. His loneliness. When I first came here, a bright white light shone from deep inside him, warming us, but that light has faded to a dim gray.” Galadhon considered his next words carefully. “He is one of the Valar, my son. He cannot die, but all the same he is suffering. He is wasting away. He has lost his inner light. I can’t imagine the burden placed on him to counsel and care for us souls. And he is always alone. He can’t come to us for comfort.”

 

Celeborn studied his father closely. “So…?”

 

“I have seen the way he looks at you. A spark of that old, white light showed when he looked at you, talked to you, and we grew hopeful that you would strengthen him, restore him to his old form. But that spark of hope has left his eyes again.” He leaned in closer and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I don’t know what has passed between the two of you and I can’t dictate your actions, but each soul here feels Námo’s loneliness, his hunger, his exhaustion. We also sensed his interest in you and the brief return of that white light deep within him. I wept when it grew extinct again. We all did.”

 

Only now did Celeborn become aware of the fact that he was at the center of everyone’s attention. Countless eyes were fastened on him, hopefully, encouragingly. Even his brother was looking at him pleadingly. “Adar—“

 

“Listen, my son. Námo has a good heart. He takes care of us, and he brightens our existence just a little. He talks to us, comforts us, and occasionally allows us a glance into the world of the living to see if our loved ones are doing well. Without those things this would be a dark and miserable place. But should Námo succumb to his loneliness, grief and depression, then he will pull us all with him.”

 

Celeborn drew in a deep breath, uncertain what to make of this information. “What should I do?”

 

“Námo craves your company – your attention. We all feel it. And yet that is the very thing you deny him. Again, I don’t know what passed between the two of you, but we beg of you to try again.”

 

Celeborn looked thoughtfully at the faces that surrounded him. Thousands of fëar were looking at him with an expression of hope. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know that he is struggling so hard.”

 

“Imagine what eternity is like when you are surrounded by the dead, my son, perpetually alone. When it is your task to see to the souls of the ones that are mourning their loss of life. We are all indebted to him for taking care of us. He could have turned the other way, and ignored us, but he created this Hall for us, and several others, which resemble the life we left behind on Arda. He even went as far to create a beautiful garden for us, deep beneath the caverns. We are indebted to him, and you, my son, should feel honored that he has taken a liking to you.” Galadhon paused, as his mouth had gone dry during his speech. “All we ask is that you try to make his existence less lonely. At one time or another, all of us desire a mate – a comrade to share the burdens of existence with. For some reason, he has chosen you.”

 

Celeborn wasn’t certain whether to feel honored or not, but his father’s words had impressed him. “I will talk to Námo again.”

 

Pleased, Galadhon nodded. “And try to see his worth, his strength of character – the real him.”

 

“I will try,” promised Celeborn, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time.

 

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“You seem a little bit better,” stated Collofin, pleased. Thranduil had taken another bath and this time the recovering Elf had been able to walk unaided, but he still required some help in getting dressed.

 

“I want to leave,” Thranduil said determinedly, shivering minutely as he ran a hand over his flat abdomen. “I wish I had been allowed to keep the little one.”

 

Collofin knelt in front of Thranduil, who was seated on a chair in front of the mirror. He had been combing and braiding the long, golden hair, but he released the plait to gather Thranduil’s hands in his. “I am sorry for your loss,” said Collofin, knowing he was broaching a painful subject, “But you also know why we never tried for a second child. Your brush with death was too close, too dangerous, when you had Legolas.”

 

Thranduil remembered; Remmen had taken the decision out of his hands and it had been decided that there wouldn’t be more children as Remmen was unwilling to risk his life again. “I have missed you so much!” Suddenly growing emotional, he freed his hands so he could wrap his arms around the other Elf. Pulling Collofin close, he buried his face in the red-golden mane. “Why did you leave me?”

 

Collofin had expected such an emotional outburst and was mentally prepared. Completing the embrace, he pulled Thranduil down onto the floor with him, where he rocked his beloved. “I am so sorry I left you, meleth. If I’d had a choice…” Knowing words meant little to Thranduil in this situation he rocked him, and sang a lullaby, which had always soothed Legolas in the past. He hoped it would work with Thranduil as well.

 

Minutes later, Thranduil stopped weeping and met Collofin’s eyes with a rueful expression. “I… I need to… to leave this place… Please… Can’t we depart right now?”

 

“You are still weak,” protested Collofin, “I understand your desire to leave for Imladris, but—“

 

“I will do whatever you tell me,” said Thranduil quickly, “I will rest, eat, and drink miruvor. I will even allow you to fuss over me without protesting… Please?”

 

Collofin sighed; he had never been able to deny Thranduil. “I will talk to Elrond. If he says you are fit enough to travel, we will. If not, you will have to be patient, meleth.”

 

“Then call for Elrond so he can assess my condition.” Bleary eyes met Collofin’s gaze. “I can’t stay here, my beloved. I can’t. Everything reminds me of Celeborn, of our child… the immense loss.”

 

Collofin nodded. “I will see what I can do. But first we need to talk to Elrond.”

 

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Elrond frowned deeply. “It is still too early. Thranduil, you should rest for a few more days.” Although Thranduil had grown stronger, he was still a mere shadow of his former self.

 

“But can I ride, Elrond?” Thranduil knew he had to try to convince Elrond.

 

“I advise against it,” repeated Elrond.

 

“But can I ride, damnit!” Thranduil was losing his patience. It was bad manners, but he *was* emotional!

 

“Yes, you can,” said Elrond, giving in. “But I still advise against it.”

 

Thranduil gave Collofin a triumphant look. “I can ride. We are leaving.”

 

“But meleth—“

 

“No! Give the word so we can ride!” Thranduil pushed himself up onto his feet. “I can’t stay here! Please…” he added the word in a tiny, pleading voice. He had possessed a spark of his old regal self a moment ago, but now seemed to collapse within himself. “Please, Remmen.”

 

Collofin gave up all resistance, hearing Thranduil say his name in such a pleading way – his old, real name… the one his soul recognized. “I will make all necessary arrangements. Elrond, would you please stay with him and keep him calm?” /And sane?/ he added in thought.

 

Elrond understood perfectly. “I will sit with him.” Watching Collofin leave the room, he placed one arm around Thranduil’s waist, and assisted his patient in sitting down. Tears leaked from Thranduil’s eyes and Elrond used the tip of his sleeve to gently wipe them away.

 

“I miss him,” sobbed Thranduil, brokenly. “I miss Celeborn. I can’t stay here! Can’t. You understand, don’t you? This place holds so many memories…”

 

Now that Thranduil’s distress was mounting again, Elrond reacted in the same way he had when his children had been upset; he hugged the other Elf close, and whispered soft, comforting words. /I do hope Collofin returns quickly!/ Thranduil needed his beloved close.

 

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They worked fast, preparing for immediate departure. Legolas had given Collofin a startled look at receiving word of their departure, but had then quickly complied, understanding Thranduil’s need to leave this place where Celeborn and he had been happy. A change of environment was best if Thranduil and Collofin were to make a good, new start.

 

When Thranduil finally approached the horses, Legolas’ heart missed a beat, finding his father still needed Elrond’s support. Elrond and Collofin helped Thranduil into the saddle and then Collofin slipped into place behind the recovering Elf to make sure Thranduil wouldn’t accidentally take a fall.

 

“We are ready to leave,” announced Haldir, who had taken on the responsibility of leading and protecting this little group. He would make sure they reached Imladris safely.

 

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Celeborn wandered the Halls for quite some time and he even visited the garden his father had mentioned. The moment he saw it, his soul seemed to reach for its warmth, gentle colors and lovely fragrances. Looking about, he saw an immense number of souls here. Some of them were lying on the grass, other leaned with their backs against the tree trunks and even more of them had made a new home in the tops of the tall trees.

 

/Námo created this for us…/ The thought that reached him originated from thousands of souls, each of them showing him how delighted they were to dwell here. /He maintains it for us, even adds to the garden; creating more trees, brighter flowers… he even returned to us the song of the birds./

 

Celeborn watched them a few more minutes, finally realizing the time and energy Námo had put into creating a new home for these souls. /But that still doesn’t make it right for him to orchestrate my death!/

 

The souls remained quiet, but he sensed a great sorrow coming from them. Well, there was no use in postponing this. He had to talk to Námo.


	30. Chapter 30

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 21

 

 

Námo had sensed the souls’ uproar, but had ignored it. Even if he could, he never would force them to behave in a way that seemed most fitting to him. When he had realized they knew he desired Celeborn, he had been horrified to have let his emotions slip. Now, he made an effort to control them very tightly, but his Halls remained in an uproar.

 

He tried to smooth away the ripples of discomfort and unrest in his realm, but the souls wouldn’t have it. They clung to their emotions and called him on his behavior. He briefly recoiled, realizing Celeborn was on his way to talk to him, encouraged by Galadhon and many other souls.

 

He had retreated to his private Hall with the intention of finding some rest here, but the hair at the back of his neck grew rigid, feeling Celeborn’s eyes upon him. “I want you to return to the other souls. You have no business here.”

 

Celeborn stepped into the Hall and immediately felt affected by the dark and gloomy atmosphere. /No wonder he feels drained and depressed./ Adapting the same posture, which he had displayed when acting in the capacity of the Lord of the Golden Wood, he proudly lifted his head and arched an eyebrow. “You are wrong. I *do* have business here.”

 

Námo steeled his heart and turned to face Celeborn. “State your business and then leave. I desire some privacy before the next soul arrives and demands my attention!” He tried to appear proud and haughty, exactly the things he wasn’t. But hopefully it would help put more emotional distance between them.

 

Celeborn approached, predatorily. His eyes narrowed, searching Námo’s sky-blue ones. “My father talked to me. Apparently he felt it necessary to speak on your behalf.”

 

The color of Námo’s eyes changed unexpectedly. The blue seemed to fade and an icy white replaced it. “Galadhon means well, but he shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Celeborn now stood in front of Námo, and gazed deeply into the narrowed eyes. “They are all quite concerned about you, did you know that?”

 

“They are grateful,” said Námo, correcting Celeborn. “Grateful, that I managed to create a more suitable environment. That has nothing to with me as a person.”

 

“I don’t know,” said Celeborn honestly, now easily reading the lost expression in Námo’s eyes. Slowly, he raised a hand and rested it on Námo’s shoulder. “Will you sit with me so we can talk more comfortably?” He gently steered the shaken Vala toward his chair. After taking his seat opposite Námo, he leaned back and continued to study him. “Now tell me the truth. Why are you so determined to have me in your Halls?”

 

Námo’s lips remained sealed.

 

Celeborn’s eyebrow inched higher. “Either you tell me or I will repeat my father’s words to remind you.”

 

Námo shook his head. “This no longer concerns you.”

 

“By the Val…“ Celeborn shrugged his shoulders. “That is one habit I need to rid myself of.” Leaning in closer, he hissed, “Why are you so stubborn? My father told me that you are lonely. That you are wasting away.”

 

Something hard appeared in Námo’s eyes as he pushed his chair away from Celeborn’s. “As I said before, this doesn’t concern you. Not any longer.”

 

“Oh, that’s what it is about! Me rejecting you!” He vividly remembered almost bringing Námo to orgasm and then turning his back on the Vala. Mumbling, he added, “I do owe you an apology for that. My temper got the better of me.” Námo’s expression weakened and encouraged Celeborn to continue. “Will you please tell me why you need me here?”

 

Námo felt inwardly torn. This wasn’t the way he had pictured this moment in time. This wasn’t the way he had wanted to tell Celeborn. He had hoped to have established a sense of trust between them first.

 

“What do you have to lose?” asked Celeborn, sounding extremely gentle and accepting.

 

“My dignity,” whispered Námo, barely audible. He wasn’t certain he could do this.

 

“Why don’t I ask questions then?” suggested Celeborn. After seeing Námo nod reluctantly, he asked, “Are you lonely?” Another nod followed. “Did you bring me here for company?” Námo bit his bottom lip and then nodded again. “Why me?”

 

Námo realized he had to reply eventually. Postponing wouldn’t do any good. “You are strong, Celeborn, intelligent, cunning, and pleasant company. You make people laugh. You love unconditionally. You died for the one you love, so you are also loyal.”

 

Celeborn’s eyes widened at the praise. “Continue.”

 

“I have been alone for so long. There has never been any love between my wife and I. We seldom see one another and I greatly desire a mate. Someone, who is willing to share my life with me; my pain and my joy. I chose you millennia ago, but I also knew I didn’t have the right to claim one of the living. I have watched you closely these last few millennia and I never wanted to cause your death. But when Thranduil became pregnant, I foresaw his death. I also knew you would offer me your life in his stead.”

 

“And you accepted.”

 

“I have wanted you at my side for so long,” offered Námo apologetically, “that when the opportunity came I couldn’t deny you – and myself.” Unable to meet Celeborn’s gaze any longer, he stared at the wall. “What your father said, is true. I am lonely and I feel like I am wasting away.”

 

Celeborn considered everything Námo had told him. There was one more question he wanted answered. “Are there any feelings for me involved on your part?” Involuntarily, he held his breath.

 

Námo smiled, bitterly. “Do I love you?”

 

Celeborn nodded encouragingly. “Do you?”

 

“I thought I did,” whispered Námo in a choked voice. Then he bowed his head. “Who am I trying to fool? I always did, and I still do. You radiate warmth and light; two things I crave.”

 

Celeborn’s heart contracted painfully at seeing the beautiful, normally proud Vala in this way. “What were your plans concerning me?”

 

Námo swallowed hard and moistened his lips. “I wanted to gain your trust and eventually your love. But there is little hope of that now. I will just have to manage in the same way I have done so far.”

 

A terrible sadness invaded Celeborn’s being. Recognizing it was Námo’s sorrow he felt, he slowly gathered one of the Vala’s hands in his. “What would my life be like as your… partner.” Was that the right word? Was there a better one?

 

Námo’s expression momentarily brightened. “Are you considering accepting this?”

 

“Maybe, tell me more,” demanded Celeborn.

 

“I want someone to share everything with. My love, my desires, my pain – my burden. You would be my equal, Celeborn. I need someone to support me, to help me manage these souls. I can’t keep up. I can’t be alone any more.”

 

Celeborn nodded in understanding. “And you love me?”

 

“Yes, I have loved you for so long. I love the wicked gleam in your eyes, your loyalty, and your protectiveness.” Námo felt shy now that he had declared his love, and waited for Celeborn to either accept or reject him again.

 

Celeborn made his decision. “I accept.”

 

Námo’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. “You…? You…? You do?”

 

Celeborn nodded; he didn’t know why he had said yes. Hopefully he would discover in time.

 

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Thranduil sagged against Collofin, delighted to feel the strong, long arms wrap around him tighter. Leaning into the comfort of the body behind him, he rested his head against Collofin’s shoulder and tried to ignore the worried look Elrond gave him. Whenever he sighed, moaned, or made even the smallest sound several pairs of eyes focused on him. He constantly felt Legolas’ eyes upon him, knowing his son was concerned about his weakened state. But he was confident he would grow strong again, now that he had Remmen at this side. The only thing that continued to worry him was the ease with which he was forgetting Celeborn’s love. That wasn’t right, was it?

 

“Why don’t you try to sleep?” Collofin suggested, “It will be several days before we will reach Imladris. Why not make the best of it and rest?”

 

Knowing from former, personal, experience that his beloved was most stubborn when it came down to fussing over him, Thranduil gave in and slowly dozed off again.

 

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They traveled at an easy pace, resting during the peak of the day and most of the night. Reaching Imladris took them longer this way, but made the journey much more comfortable for Thranduil, who continued to improve when he lay asleep in his lover’s arms at night. The only thing that continued to worry them was the haunted look that appeared in Thranduil’s eyes whenever Celeborn was mentioned.

 

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Celeborn and Námo stared at one another, trying to figure out their next step. The souls that inhabited these Halls had grown quiet and awaited the next move with much anticipation. Celeborn had accepted, but awkwardness remained between them. In the end it was Celeborn who took the initiative. “You look tired.” He hadn’t thought it possible for one of the Valar to develop black circles beneath the eyes, but they were beginning to show below Námo’s.

 

“I *am* tired,” confirmed Námo with a deep sigh. “But I can’t possibly rest. It won’t be long before the next Elven soul will arrive.”

 

Celeborn’s thoughts raced. “I have an idea; will you listen and consider it with an open mind?”

 

Growing curious, Námo nodded. “What is it?”

 

“I have seen you talk to the new souls. I could take the next arrival under my wing whilst you sleep.”

 

Námo didn’t seem convinced. “Don’t underestimate my task, Celeborn.”

 

“I don’t. I know how important your work here is, but at least let me try.” Celeborn’s expression was warm and hopeful when he looked into Námo’s eyes. “You require rest.”

 

Celeborn was right. He did need rest, but… “What if something goes amiss?”

 

“I ruled the Golden Wood for many millennia,” said Celeborn, “I will manage here as well.” Realizing they would still be discussing this in hours if he didn’t take control of the situation now, he rose and covered the small distance between them. “Come with me.” He extended his right hand, waiting for Námo to take it.

 

Putting his trust in Celeborn was easier than he had thought, considering Celeborn had rejected him in the beginning. He gingerly placed his hand in Celeborn’s and then slowly rose from his chair.

 

“Let me do this for you. We can discuss this matter in depth after you are rested.” Looking about, he wondered where the Vala normally lay down to rest.

 

“There is a room to the right,” whispered Námo, steering Celeborn in the correct direction.

 

Now that he knew where they were headed, Celeborn took control again. Upon entering the room, he felt uncomfortable at the gloomy atmosphere that lingered here. He spied a few candles in the corner of the room, and he lit them, placing them all over the room so their hesitantly warm light softened the dark atmosphere. He returned to Námo’s side and removed the heavy cloak that literally seemed to weigh the Vala down. Next, he undid the laces of the gray leggings and unbuttoned the shirt, ignoring Námo’s inquisitive look when he allowed the garments to slip onto the floor. “Sit down,” he instructed in a gentle tone and to his surprise, the mighty Vala obeyed.

 

Kneeling, he removed the boots and then lifted Námo’s legs onto the bed. He rose from the floor to sit on the side of the bed and their gazes met. Only clad in a loincloth, Námo appeared very vulnerable to him and he felt guilty for the way he had left the Vala earlier – aroused and needy. There was no sign of arousal now, only a tired expression in the blue eyes and a look of surrender on the face. Although it was completely unnecessary as they didn’t feel cold or warmth, he still covered Námo with a blanket, tucking the fabric around the trembling body.

 

“It has been centuries since I last…” Námo’s voice failed him, and he hoped Celeborn understood at any rate.

 

“Since you last rested in this manner,” finished Celeborn for him. “But what happens if a soul arrives? Will its arrival cause you to awaken?”

 

Námo nodded once. “Someone has to see to it.”

 

Celeborn drew in a deep breath to emotionally steady himself and then asked, “Do you trust me?”

 

Námo never hesitated. “I do.”

 

“Then let me guard your sleep so you won’t wake before you are satisfactorily rested.”

 

Námo swallowed hard at that request. In complying he would temporarily hand over command to Celeborn and the silver-haired Elf hadn’t been here long enough to know all tasks involved. But he was so tired… so sleepy.

 

“I thought you trusted me,” said Celeborn gently, seeing the conflict in the other’s eyes. “I won’t betray your trust.”

 

In the end, Námo nodded his permission. “You will decide when I will wake up again.” Giving Celeborn the ability to guard his sleep frightened him, but this was what he had always wanted; an equal to help him carry his burden.

 

“Sleep then,” whispered Celeborn in a soothing tone, reaching out to stroke the long white hair, with weak blue streaks mixed in and he now also encountered a few mithril-colored strands. The blue eyes closed in sleep. “You must be utterly exhausted.”

 

“My Lord Námo?”

 

Celeborn looked up at hearing a familiar voice. “Oropher?” Rising from the bed, he turned and looked at the former King. Thranduil had always loved his father and talked about him most fondly. Celeborn hoped that Oropher had worked through his death at the Battle of the Last Alliance and would help him run these Halls.

 

Oropher’s eyes narrowed, recognizing Celeborn. He had heard of the other’s arrival, and had listened quietly when the souls had encouraged Celeborn and Námo to talk. /He died so my son could live. I am indebted to him. Whatever feelings I had in the past shouldn’t matter. I *owe* him./

 

“My good friend,” said Celeborn, hoping Oropher understood and would reply in a similar fashion. “I am so glad to see you. I require your help.”

 

Oropher’s sea-blue eyes fastened on Námo – who was obviously asleep. “Yes, you were right. He needs the rest.” Námo had grown more silent and distant throughout the years and it was good to see him finally peacefully asleep.

 

“And that is why I need your help,” said Celeborn, who felt grateful now that Oropher seemed willing to cooperate. “Could you please gather Amroth, Turgon, Fingolfin, Finwë, Elwë, Finrod, Finarfin, Ereinion, Ecthelion, my father, and others who have experience in ruling a realm?” Námo had kept these Halls running by himself instead of soliciting the help of others.

 

“I always told him he needed assistants to lighten his workload, but he never listened.” Oropher nodded once. “I will gather them.”

 

“Thank you.” Celeborn watched Oropher turn around and expected the other Elf to leave, but Oropher surprised him by looking over his shoulder.

 

“You have my eternal gratitude for keeping my child alive. You gave your life so Thranduil would live. I will never forget what you did for him.”

 

“Thank you,” whispered Celeborn again, this time in a soft, and caring tone. “I loved him.”

 

“Yes, you did.” Oropher chuckled inwardly. /And now you are falling for Námo, just as we had hoped you would./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn’s gaze shifted from one soul to another. They had all come. Finwë had taken the seat at the other end of the long table and was closely monitoring him. Celeborn cleared his throat and then started, “I have called you here for a reason. Lord Námo offered me the position of his… “ Celeborn paused, considering, “right hand, and I am determined to make some changes here. He has been doing everything on his own and the workload has become too much for him. It is time we help in our own way. Everyone here has some experience in running a kingdom and we will look upon these halls as a realm from now on. We need to take on some responsibility. We need to help where we can.”

 

Ereinion nodded. “We told Námo so before, but he is stubborn and never listens. We already discussed this matter amongst ourselves and came up with several solutions. We will help when and where we can.”

 

Galadhon looked his son in the eye. “Some of the new souls tend to be severely distraught and in those cases we will still require Námo’s help. No one else can soothe them like he can.”

 

“He will be there,” said Celeborn, reassuring them. “But for now he will rest. Should there be any new arrivals, I will see to them personally.”

 

The gathered leaders nodded their consent. “We will help,” said Finrod, looking from one face to the other. “We offered our help in the past, but Námo always refused – politely, but he still refused.”

 

“He didn’t want to burden us,” added Fingolfin, whose compassionate eyes had never left Celeborn’s form. “Therefore we are truly grateful that you have arrived at last.”

 

Celeborn nodded determinedly. “I will take care of him as long as he needs someone to do so.”

 

Galadhon leaned in closer and placed his hand atop his son’s. “He is one of the Valar, my son, never forget that. His power exceeds yours by far. He is our master here.”

 

“But a kind master,” said Ereinion, “One who is also in need of love. A mate.”

 

Celeborn was reminded of his own words at hearing Ereinion’s. /I accept,/ he had said. Now he wondered what position he had accepted, exactly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thankfully, the one Elven fëa that arrived was old and accepting of its death, and Celeborn and Turgon looked after it. The soul easily accepted being reunited with its lost loved ones and quickly settled down.

 

Whilst Turgon remained alert in case more souls followed, Celeborn returned to Námo’s private rooms, once more despairing at the broody atmosphere within these walls. Concentrating on the sleeping form in the bed, he sat down on the side, studying Námo extensively. The Vala was beautiful. /And he wants me – loves me./ But everything was happening so fast! He had lost Thranduil and their child and now he had consented to be Námo’s… What? Consort? /Consort?/ The thought made him chuckle.

 

Concentrating on Námo again, he smiled. Although the Vala had only rested for a few hours – at least he thought that only a few hours had passed. But no one could tell as time seemed to have frozen in these Halls – Námo already seemed improved. The dark circles beneath those wonderful eyes had faded and a weak smile had formed on the Vala’s face. Celeborn tried to imagine what kind of existence Námo led – what kind of ‘life’ he had here – and quickly understood how terribly lonely he had to be. The anger he had felt at being manipulated lessened.

 

Being truthful with himself, he admitted that he had never managed the same depth of love with Thranduil, as the former Woodland King had had with Remmen. Maybe here was where his destiny lay after all. Maybe he was fated to be with Námo instead. There was only one way to find out. Bowing forward, his lips brushed Námo’s, whilst whispering, “Wake up, my Lord.”


	31. Chapter 31

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 22

 

 

The sensation he woke up to was most pleasant; soft, pliant, warm lips kissed his with a strong sense of curiosity and possessiveness. Slowly regaining awareness, Námo opened his eyes and stared at the source of this warmth that now slowly invaded his being. Celeborn’s inquisitive eyes were fastened on him and those lips… Those lips did magnificent things to him. He followed where Celeborn led him, hungry for more new sensations.

 

Celeborn wondered about Námo’s unskilled kiss. Námo tried to return the kiss and to deepen it, but it was obvious that the Vala hadn’t done much kissing in his long existence. That thought saddened him and Celeborn did his utmost best to satisfy the other’s need and curiosity. Demonstrating his considerable skills, he kissed Námo breathless.

 

Námo’s toes curled and breathing became increasingly difficult. The kiss completely enraptured him and Námo let Celeborn set their pace. Moaning into the Elf’s mouth, he hungrily wished for more, burying his fingers in the long, silver mane.

 

Although he had no reason to be surprised by Námo’s passionate reaction, he was still astonished to see the Vala this eager – this hungry. Indulging him, Celeborn continued kissing him, occasionally slipping in a lighter kiss and some nibbling at Námo’s bottom lip. Big, sparkling blue eyes met his in rapture.

 

Námo smiled, feeling truly warm on the inside after their kissing. Although he wanted to do a lot more than just kissing, he controlled his desires tightly, knowing that he should let Celeborn set their pace. “Thank you for that.”

 

“For the kissing?” Celeborn smiled smugly. “I enjoyed it as much as you did.” Which was the truth. Námo’s lips were silken and very soft – perfect for a long kissing session. Words wouldn’t easily come to him, seeing the soft expression in the warm, blue eyes. Why had he ever thought them frost-blue? They resembled a warm summer sky, cloudless and radiant with sun. “I must apologize again for my behavior earlier. Leaving you in such a flushed state was hardly appropriate.” One hand traveled up Námo’s chest and came to rest on the back of the Vala’s neck, whilst the other went downward, beneath the blanket, and eventually below the loincloth. “Let me apologize properly.”

 

Námo’s breath caught, as Celeborn’s fingers curled around his hardening flesh. He had never craved anyone, anything, like he craved Celeborn and he willingly surrendered to the bruising kiss, and the demanding fingers. Arching toward Celeborn, he threw back his head, allowing the silver-haired Elf to utterly possess his mouth. A fire, which he had never known before, spread through his groin, and before he knew it, he was thrusting needily. “Please…” He wasn’t beyond begging at this point, having wanted this for so long.

 

Hearing Námo beg for release deeply touched Celeborn’s heart. He had never thought one of the Valar would do so. “But of course.” Closing his lips over Námo’s bruised ones, he deepened the kiss, suckling the tip of the other’s tongue, increasing the speed and intensity of his strokes. Námo unexpectedly trembled beneath him, moaned from deep within his throat, tensed, and went limp when hot cream erupted from the slit. Celeborn grinned predatorily and held Námo close, uncaring that the cream now dripped onto his leggings as well. They could slip into clean clothes later. The changed expression in Námo’s eyes baffled him. They were open, warm and illuminated from within. “I reckon you feel better now?” he said teasingly, trying to do away with any discomfort or nervousness between them.

 

“I do,” whispered Námo; a slight catch could be heard in his voice. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

 

Gazing deeply into the dark, blue eyes, Celeborn said, “I am beginning to understand.” He was also realizing that he was developing certain feelings for the Vala, which surprised him. But Námo was beautiful – had been magnificent in his need and surrender. “You should clean yourself up and maybe you have a spare set of clothes for me too? I do believe you made a mess.”

 

Námo blushed at what had occurred just now. “I…” Speechless, he ran a finger over his bruised lips. He had known he had picked Celeborn for a reason! The Doriath Elf was passionate and loyal. “Thank you for that.” Then another thought occurred to him. Shouldn’t he return the favor?

 

Celeborn easily read Námo’s expression. “No, you don’t have to. And we don’t have the time at any rate. I am certain you want to inspect your Halls to see if I did a good job whilst you were asleep.” Although he was aroused as well, he felt it was still too early for Námo to take this step. If he read the Vala right – and he was certain he did – then this beautiful being had never before had a male lover. This had been a big step for Námo. /He is nothing like I thought he would be./

 

Placing his hand on Námo’s, he gently pulled the Vala to his feet. “Take a bath, my Lord. Allow yourself some luxury. I will be in here, waiting for you.” He had to keep in mind that Námo was a Vala, a very powerful being, no one to trifle with.

 

Námo nodded once, and then raised his right hand to gently caress Celeborn’s face. “I always knew you would make a good mate.” With a hint of his blush still intact, he reluctantly turned away from Celeborn and headed for the bathroom.

 

His skin tingled where Námo’s fingertips had made contact with it and Celeborn felt afloat on a thousands clouds, mentally replaying Námo’s words. Oh, this wasn’t really happening, was it? This couldn’t possibly *be* happening, or was it? Oh, he was definitely in trouble now, falling in love with the Doomsman of the Valar. When had that happened?

 

Celeborn shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but Námo’s face remained prominent in his thoughts and his heart continued to thump madly with desire.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Námo reemerged, he was dressed in luxurious cream robes, lined with soft, beige fur. His long white hair danced loose against his shoulders and the small of his back. A circlet, depicting stars and snowflakes graced his brow. The blue eyes still carried a hint of the warmth the orbs had possessed when the Vala had found release only moments ago. He felt rested and very much in love with Celeborn, an emotion, which he could no longer hide. “Will you accompany me? I need to make certain that everything is all right in my Halls.”

 

Celeborn nodded and then fell into step beside the Vala. “I enlisted some help whilst you were asleep and discovered that we can deal with the older and more accepting souls ourselves. It is the young ones that fight death.”

 

Námo understood. “They feel robbed of their life and often rightly so.” He recalled the multitude of souls that had arrived when the Elves had helped defend Helm’s Deep. Once he had comforted them and taken them to their rightful place, he had felt utterly exhausted. The pain and sorrow that the souls had radiated had depressed him and he hoped that there would never be such an invasion of his Halls again. “So how did you manage?” A quick, mental sweep told him that everything was in order in his Halls and that the souls were relatively happy.

 

“Turgon and I took care of the new arrivals, whilst the other Kings of old made sure the already settled souls were comfortable.” Celeborn arched an eyebrow. “They are all most eager to help, my Lord. If I may say so, they like you. They care about your well-being.”

 

“Which surprises you?”

 

Celeborn decided to be completely honest. “It does. I never thought the dead would care for their Lord and Master.”

 

“I don’t care much about titles, Celeborn,” said Námo gruffly. “All that matters to me is that these souls are relatively happy whilst they are waiting to be reborn.”

 

“How do you decide who is reborn?” asked Celeborn curiously, finding Námo was now heading for the main hall, which was assuredly crowded with souls, his father and brother doubtlessly among them.

 

“Their love decides for them.”

 

Celeborn raised an eyebrow. “Their love?”

 

“Glorfindel, for example, had a great love for life, and for Arda itself, and his heart remained there whilst his soul traveled here,” explained the Vala patiently.

 

“And Remmen loved Thranduil even in death.”

 

“Remmen’s love is extra-ordinary. I have seldom encountered such love before and he deserved to be reborn.” Námo moistened his pale lips. “There is something I would like to discuss with you. Let us sit in the corner.” Námo regularly inclined his head in greeting or acknowledgement when several souls approached him. Guiding Celeborn to a pair of chairs in front of the fire place, he sat down first. He sensed the souls’ delight at seeing him together with Celeborn. He really had been careless, letting his emotions slip earlier.

 

“What is it that you wish to discuss?” Celeborn settled down opposite Námo, puzzled at seeing a restless expression in the blue eyes.

 

“Thranduil -- and his reaction to your death.” Námo gathered his robes close and pushed deeper into the comfort of his chair.

 

Celeborn sighed. “What was his reaction like, then?”

 

“He still blames himself for your demise. Although you told him that it wasn’t his fault and that you set him free, he is afraid to believe so. He thinks it was nothing but a dream.”

 

Celeborn flinched. “I was afraid that might happen.” And Námo had only given him one chance to say his goodbyes!

 

Námo caught that thought. “It would be wise if you talked to him again. Now that Remmen has returned to his side, I don’t want him to waste away because he feels guilty about your death.”

 

“You will allow me to talk to him again?” Hope flared in Celeborn’s heart.

 

Námo inclined his head. “It would be best if I talked to him as well, as he thinks you a vision. We will talk to him together.”

 

Celeborn approved of that idea. “That would be best.” It had taken him a while to understand that Námo had Thranduil’s best interest in mind, but that fact had finally registered with him. Smiling weakly at Námo, he hoped the Vala forgave him his earlier temper tantrums. He would try to keep in control from now on.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Listen to me, Thranduil. Hear me… See me.” Námo had waited for Thranduil to head for the small stream the party had encountered earlier, and now that the former King was alone, he judged the time right to reveal himself and Celeborn.

 

Celeborn bit his bottom lip, seeing the startled – almost frightened – expression in the emerald eyes. “Be at ease, Thranduil. We mean you no harm.”

 

“But… but you’re dead!” Thranduil’s eyes had widened and he trembled fiercely. Leaning against the trunk of a tree for support, he stared at the apparitions in front of him. He knew both of them only too well.

 

Námo nodded his head once. “Yes, you know me. I denied you entry to my Halls many millennia ago. It wasn’t your time, Thranduil.”

 

Thranduil’s shivering intensified. “Have you finally come for me, my Lord? Why now? Now that I finally have Remmen at my side again?” Realizing what he had just said, he looked pleadingly at Celeborn. “I am sorry! I didn’t mean for it to sound like that!”

 

Celeborn advanced on his former lover. Uncertain if he could touch Thranduil, he slowly raised his hand and he smiled tenderly when his fingertips encountered warm flesh. “I know you love me, Thranduil, but I also know that you love Remmen more and that you never stopped loving him. On many an evening I found you staring at his portrait and whispering his name. You have my blessing, my love.”

 

“But… you died for me! If I were you I would be angry – very angry with me.” Thranduil stared pleadingly into Celeborn’s eyes once again. “I would understand if you hate me.”

 

“Hate you? I could never possibly hate you!” Celeborn shook his head. “I told you before that I want you to be happy with Remmen, but you didn’t believe me.”

 

“I thought you were a dream – a vision,” explained Thranduil, still staring at the Vala and his dead lover. “Is this real, then?”

 

“Very real,” replied Námo, as he walked up to the shaken Elf. “You know me and you know that I don’t lie.”

 

“That’s true,” whispered Thranduil, feeling hypnotized as he looked into Námo’s pale blue eyes. “You never lied to me.”

 

Encouraged, Námo continued, “Your time of happiness has finally come, my child. Why allow this pain and guilt to linger when you can be happy again? Celeborn just gave you his blessing. Please accept it.”

 

“But…” Thranduil looked longingly at Celeborn. “How can I be happy when you are not?”

 

“Who says I am not happy?” Celeborn gave Thranduil a wink. “It might take me some time to get used to being dead, but so far life – uh, death – isn’t unpleasant at all.”

 

“My Lords?” Collofin had needed a moment to compose himself when he happened upon Celeborn and Námo. The presence of the Vala of Death worried him and he wrapped an arm around Thranduil’s waist protectively. Now that they had finally been reunited, he wasn’t going to allow Námo to separate them ever again!

 

Námo sensed Collofin’s unease and quickly reassured him. “You left my Halls, Remmen, and I hope you won’t enter again for a very long time. We are here to soothe Thranduil and to convince him that he isn’t to blame for Celeborn’s death.”

 

Looking to Thranduil, Collofin nodded. “Lord Námo speaks the truth; you aren’t to blame.”

 

Thranduil’s eyes sought out Celeborn’s once more, needing to be reassured again.

 

“You aren’t to blame. I made my choice.” Celeborn smiled, leaned in closer and pressed a chaste kiss onto the golden-haired Elf’s lips. “You aren’t to blame, Thranduil. I made the bargain and I am happy with the outcome.”

 

Collofin listened up. “You are happy with the outcome?” What did that mean?

 

“It means I have the feeling I will enjoy my new home… and its Lord.” Celeborn gave Námo a cheeky grin, claimed the Vala’s hand and pressed a quick kiss onto a knuckle. “You see, Lord Námo and I have reached a certain agreement.”

 

“An agreement?” Thranduil leaned closer against Collofin, needing the physical connection.

 

“I am his consort,” said Celeborn, purring.

 

“Consort?” echoed Thranduil and Collofin simultaneously.

 

“Yes, that is why I can set you free so easily,” said Celeborn, addressing Thranduil. “You have found love with Collofin, and I am attracted to Námo. So relish your time with Collofin and live each day to the fullest.”

 

The words now came easier to Thranduil. “I promise.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back in the Halls of Waiting, Celeborn fell into step beside Námo. Looking at the Vala, he found Námo in deep thought. Was Námo thinking about Thranduil and Remmen as well?”

 

“Do you resent me for bringing them together again?”

 

Námo’s question surprised Celeborn, but then he recalled his initial reaction when he had found out. “Resent you? No, I don’t resent you. I didn’t understand why you did this at first, but I gained more insight. I understand now.”

 

Námo released a relieved sigh. “Good.” It meant a lot to him that the former Lord understood why he had done this. “Do you then resent me for accepting your offer and bringing you here, into my Halls?”

 

“My Lord?” Celeborn grabbed hold of Námo’s right hand. He halted in his movement and Námo was forced to stop walking as well. “I don’t resent you. I like you. I like you more than I originally thought. My death was a shock and learning about your manipulation worried me. But I don’t resent you. I *like* you!”

 

Encouraged by the fire in Celeborn’s monologue, Námo leaned in closer, pulled the silver-haired Elf toward him and passionately claimed his lips. Bringing his arms up behind Celeborn’s back, he hungrily explored the Elf’s mouth. The close contact caused him to grow hard and he involuntarily thrust against him.

 

Celeborn’s breath caught, seeing Námo’s pupils dilate and the soft, blue irises darken. Námo puzzled him. Námo’s *reactions* puzzled him and he had to ask – had to know. “You are so hungry, so eager… My Lord, may I inquire when you were last together with a lover?”

 

Námo suddenly pulled away, radiating unease at hearing Celeborn’s questions. “With a male? Never.” He averted his eyes, unwilling to see the expression in Celeborn’s.

 

“Never?” Celeborn’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “I am your first?”

 

“It is different for me, Celeborn,” said Námo hesitantly, “For us, Valar. Normally, we don’t feel such… physical attraction.”

 

“Lust,” said Celeborn, “You mean lust.” But his mind still reeled from Námo’s admission. /Never before?/ “So what you are trying to say is that this is an exception? This attraction?”

 

“Yes, this has never occurred before.”

 

“And what does your dear wife say about this?” Celeborn hoped he wasn’t overstepping boundaries.

 

“My wife has no interest in my *carnal* pleasures. As I said before, we seldom talk.”

 

“That must be a very lonely marriage, my Lord.” Celeborn slowly understood the Vala’s loneliness and why Námo needed a mate. “So she isn’t opposed to this…” How to call this? “Liaison?”

 

“It is hardly of any interest to her,” said Námo in a saddened voice. He managed a weak smile when Celeborn’s arm folded around him and he leaned into the touch. “I am glad you are here – at my side.”

 

“And so am I.” Those were words Celeborn had never thought he would say, but things had changed.


	32. Chapter 32

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 23

 

Magolion grew worried and excited, seeing the small party approach Imladris. His sharp, Elven vision quickly made out the Elves’ identities and he quickly climbed down, as he had been sitting in the top of an old tree, listening to the song of the birds and idly watching the clouds drift by. His feet hit solid ground once more and he felt briefly torn inwardly. What was he supposed to do? Hurry back to the Last Homely House to inform his mate and friends? Or welcome the party? In the end, the group had come rather close to him and he decided to welcome them home.

 

“Mae govannen!” He walked toward them, waving at them. “We didn’t expect you to return this quickly, Lord Elrond.” Although Elrond had told him to stop addressing him in such a formal manner, the habit occasionally slipped back in. His gaze shifted from Elrond to Legolas and Haldir. Next to them rode a young Elf, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Legolas. /That must be Remmen./ The last time he had seen Remmen was when he had been a toddler, and it had been many years since then. Last, his gaze came to rest on Collofin, who held Thranduil tightly in his arms. One of Magolion’s eyebrows arched questioningly.

 

“I have much to tell you,” said Elrond, taking the lead, “But that will have to wait. Please run ahead to the Last Homely House to inform them of our imminent arrival and tell the servants to ready guest rooms.”

 

“No guest room for Thranduil,” decreed Collofin, “He will stay with me.”

 

Elrond smiled sweetly, wondering what Erestor and Glorfindel had to say about that.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Lindir…! Where is Lindir…? Elrohir? Erestor… where are they?” Panting hard because he had run all the way here, Magolion grabbed hold of his brother, who was giving him a worried look.

 

“What happened, Magolion? Did you step onto a leftover, poisoned Orc arrow and did develop a fever?” Erestor had seldom seen Magolion so flushed and this excited.

 

“They are back!” He paused, trying to catch his breath. “Elrond, and the others, they are back!”

 

Erestor’s eyes narrowed. “Are they injured? Were they attacked?” The party wasn’t supposed to return for quite some time!

 

“They are fine… Except for Thranduil, who looks exhausted.” Magolion drew in a deep breath and then called out again for his friends. “Lindir! Get over here! And Elrohir, your father has returned!”

 

Erestor suddenly realized something worrisome. “What about my son, Magolion? What about Collofin?” Elrond and Collofin had been traveling together, but so far his brother hadn’t mentioned him!

 

“Collofin is fine too. Stop worrying, Erestor.” Magolion smiled warmly at his brother and teasingly elbowed him in his side. “They will be here in a few minutes. Elrond told me to ready guestrooms.” He decided not to mention Collofin’s rather bold statement that Thranduil was to stay with him.

 

Erestor called a servant closer and issued all necessary instructions. “Guestrooms for whom?” he said, turning to Magolion for an answer.

 

“Legolas, Haldir, and their son, Remmen. Oh, and Thranduil, of course.” In the distance, Magolion already made out the party’s faint silhouette. “And you might want to fetch Glorfindel.”

 

Erestor shook his head at this confusing information. But the servant had understood and now hurried away to carry out his instructions, whilst Erestor ran back into the Last Homely House to find his mate.

 

“What is it?” Elrohir, having heard Magolion call him, rounded around the corner and came to a halt in front of his husband. Behind him was Lindir, who was panting softly, wide eyes staring inquisitively at Magolion.

 

“They are back!” Magolion raised a hand to point them in the right direction.

 

Lindir looked up and released a yelp, finding Elrond riding up front. Not giving his actions a second thought, he broke out into a run. “Elrond! Beloved!”

 

Elrond jumped from the horse’s back, opened his arms and caught Lindir in them. A passionate kiss locked their lips and a soft sigh escaped both of them.

 

Elrohir chuckled softly and he reached for Magolion, folding an arm around the warrior. He was extremely happy to have his father back, but his gaze shifted to the rest of the party, easily identifying the weary expression on Thranduil’s face.

 

“Collofin!” Glorfindel exited the Last Homely House first and ran toward his son, with Erestor in hot pursuit.

 

“Go to them,” whispered Thranduil, still feeling rather tired.

 

“Won’t you fall without my support?”

 

“I will manage.” Thranduil clung to the saddle when Collofin dismounted. He watched detachedly how Glorfindel caught Collofin in his arms, pressing the younger Elf close. A moment later Erestor joined them and the dark-haired advisor attempted to bury both of them in a hug simultaneously. He thanked Námo for giving his love such caring and devoted parents. Erestor and Glorfindel had done an excellent job in raising Collofin.

 

“Let me look at you!” Glorfindel pulled away from his son and studied Collofin. A new light shone from his son’s eyes, blazing hotly. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for at least a year!”

 

“Much has happened, Ada,” said Collofin softly, “And I will tell you everything there is to know, but first we need to make sure Thranduil lies down, eats, and then rests.”

 

Erestor wondered about his son’s concern for the former King, but didn’t mention this, having seen the pitiful state the golden-haired Elf was in. “I will assist you. Glorfindel, can you see to Legolas and his family?”

 

“Of course.” Glorfindel would have preferred to stay with Collofin and Erestor, but knew he had to carry out his duties.

 

“We will speak later,” said Elrond, addressing Thranduil and Legolas. “But first we all need to rest. We will meet again for dinner.” After the two Elves had nodded their consent, he allowed Lindir to walk him to their rooms.

 

Glorfindel waited for Legolas, Haldir, and Remmen to dismount, and whilst the stable hand looked after their horses, he led their guests to the guest wing. Seeing how tired and concerned Legolas looked, he hoped he could lighten the other’s mood. “A dear friend of yours has arrived a few days ago, Legolas.”

 

His curiosity piqued, he briefly forget about the troubles that plagued his father. “A dear friend of mine?”

 

“Gimli,” said Glorfindel, chuckling softly. “He will be delighted to find you are here too.”

 

Legolas’ features softened remarkably. “I am delighted as well.” Remmen gave him a curious glance and Legolas grinned, recalling how Gimli used to fuss over his son. But decades had passed since then. “You do remember him, don’t you?”

 

Remmen nodded once. “I do.” He had very fond memories of his favorite ‘uncle’ and was very much looking forward to speaking with the Dwarf again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor said nothing, watching Collofin fuss over Thranduil. The former King now rested comfortably on the bed, blankets tucked around him, and Collofin sat at the golden-haired Elf’s side, holding and gently stroking his hand. This was most peculiar.

 

“You should explain,” mumbled Thranduil, sleepily, after establishing eye contact with his lover.

 

Collofin sighed and then lifted wavering eyes to meet Erestor’s questioning gaze. “Will you sit with us for a while?”

 

Erestor pulled up a chair and seated himself to Thranduil’s right, opposite his son. “I am listening.” He wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. The only explanation he could come up with was that his son had fallen in love with Thranduil. But so quickly?

 

Collofin drew in a deep breath and then blurted out, “Námo allowed my fëa to be reborn into this body. I am Collofin, your son, but I am also Remmen, Thranduil’s husband and Legolas’ father.”

 

Erestor stared at his son. “What?”

 

“Námo sent Glorfindel back too! It has happened before!” Collofin desperately hoped to convince Erestor. “My memories returned to me when I saw Thranduil for the fist time.”

 

“He speaks the truth,” said Thranduil in a soft tone. “His soul is Remmen’s.”

 

Collofin nodded fervently. “Please, Ada, believe me.”

 

“Námo sent you back?” Glorfindel’s voice, coming from the doorway took all three of them aback.

 

Collofin nodded again. “Yes, he sent me back.” After giving Thranduil an apologetic look, he released the blond’s hand and walked over to Glorfindel. “He told me that I would be reborn at an opportune time. I didn’t want to be reborn, knowing Thranduil was perfectly happy with Celeborn, but Námo never listens and did as he pleased. In the end, I consented.”

 

Glorfindel studied Collofin. “You have walked the Halls of Waiting?”

 

“Yes, I have.” Collofin nodded. “And I know Námo cares for us souls. He tried to make us reasonably happy.”

 

Glorfindel licked his lips. “This is hard to believe – to accept.”

 

“But it *is* the truth!” Collofin stared deeply into Glorfindel’s eyes. “And I won’t be parted from Thranduil ever again!”

 

Thranduil weakly pushed himself up onto an elbow. “And I refuse to be parted from my husband.”

 

“You should be lying down,” said Erestor, gently admonishing Thranduil. The golden-haired Elf lay down again and Erestor tucked the blankets back into place. He had listened and had kept his opinion to himself until now. “I would like some proof.”

 

“Collofin? The portrait.” Thranduil pointed his beloved toward his riding cloak.

 

Collofin grabbed the cloak and quickly located the portrait. “This is Remmen. Thranduil has carried this with him since I died.” He showed it to Erestor. Glorfindel quickly joined them to look at the portrait as well. The resemblance was undeniable and Collofin knew it. “I will always be your loving son, but when I am with Thranduil, I am more. My very soul remembers and loves him. And as your son, I will always love and respect you as well.” Waiting for them to make up their minds, Collofin involuntarily held his breath.

 

Erestor frowned deeply, and then decided that if Námo had sent one soul back, he could have sent two back too. And did it even matter? “I love you, my son, and I won’t love you any less no matter whose soul is housed in your body.” He easily caught Collofin’s relieved sigh at those words and he quickly hugged his son.

 

Glorfindel nodded, absentmindedly hearing Erestor’s words as he was still studying the portrait. Námo’s ways were impossible to predict and even harder to explain. “Erestor is right; we love you.”

 

Collofin smiled brilliantly at them. “I knew you would believe me and accept this.” After hugging them back tightly, he released them and gave them a wicked wink. “You do realize you have gained a son in law?”

 

Erestor and Glorfindel groaned in unison, “Thranduil.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Celeborn wiped away the single tear that had escaped his eyes. “Thank you for letting me witness this moment in time.” Námo had taken him to Imladris; into Remmen’s rooms to be exact. They had watched the reunion and both were certain Thranduil had found a new home here. Thranduil would be cared for and that was all that mattered to Celeborn.

 

“But we cannot linger here.” Námo extended an arm and offered Celeborn his hand. “Come, we need to return to my Halls.”

 

“But… Can we visit with them again in time?” Celeborn looked at them longingly. In life these Elves had meant a lot to him!

 

Námo nodded once in understanding. “We can visit regularly, but we need to remain hidden from their view. Do you understand and accept that?”

 

“I do.” Celeborn curled his fingers around Námo’s, realizing he had found another, a different kind of love in death. And perhaps, he had found his destiny and eternal love as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Legolas!” Gimli approached his old friend and was deeply touched when Legolas sat on his heels to allow him a proper embrace. At times, being the short one was awkward. “I missed you, laddie!”

 

“And I missed you, Gimli.” Legolas placed a chaste kiss on Gimli’s brow. “You remember Remmen, don’t you?” He rose from the floor and presented his son to Gimli.

 

“It has been decades, but I remember. It has been too long.” Feeling a bit shy around the younger Elf, Gimli waited for Remmen to take the initiative.

 

Remmen mimicked his father’s moves and went down onto his knees to warmly hug Gimli. “You always were my favorite ‘uncle’ and I am delighted to see you again. You are right; it has been much too long since we last met.” He gave Gimli a blinding smile.

 

Gimli, flattered by the warm welcome, guided his friends over to the fire, where they sat down in comfortable chairs. “You are probably wondering what brings me here.”

 

Legolas nodded, but waited patiently for Gimli to continue.

 

“Lord Elrond invited me to stay in Imladris and I complied.” Gimli looked at Legolas from beneath bushy eyebrows. “He also offered me passage on the last ship that will leave for Valinor after Aragorn’s…death.” That last word left his lips quite uncomfortably.

 

“That is partly my doing. I sent Elrond a letter last winter,” explained Legolas, “After Aragorn’s death we will be the last remaining members of the Fellowship and I can’t possibly leave you behind.” Legolas sighed, deeply. “It looks as if Haldir and I will settle down in Imladris as well. When the time comes, we will all leave together and we will stand side by side, as in the old days, my truest friend.”

 

A lump of emotions had formed in Gimli’s throat. “I would like that very much.”

 

“Me too,” whispered Legolas, placing his hand atop Gimli’s. “We will sail for Valinor together. All of us.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How do you fare, meleth?” Collofin had settled comfortably on the bed, carefully eyeing Thranduil whilst the golden-haired Elf ate dinner. They had excused themselves for the evening, preferring to spend some time together now they had some privacy.

 

“Better.” Thranduil had eaten almost everything on his plate and smiled, seeing Collofin’s pleased look. Raising a hand, he gently caressed the other Elf’s face. “I feel like I have been given another chance.”

 

Collofin smiled warmly. “Yes?”

 

“I… I never thought you would return to me and yet you did. I can even accept that Celeborn doesn’t blame me for his death, because he said so himself, but… there is still one thing that weighs heavily on my mind.” Thranduil’s eyes darkened with still unshed tears.

 

“Losing your unborn child,” whispered Collofin softly, knowing his beloved so very well.

 

Thranduil nodded, and he let go of the multitude of tears that now glided down his cheeks. “I should have known something would go wrong. I shouldn’t have tried again.”

 

Collofin rocked Thranduil gently. “You have to let go of your guilt, meleth. It wasn’t your fault that you lost the child.”

 

“I should never have tried to bear another child!” Tears now flowed down his cheeks in earnest and the salty drops slid from his chin to land on the blankets.

 

“You tried because you loved Celeborn and you wanted to give him a child. You are a caring and loving Elf, meleth, and you aren’t to blame.” Opting for action instead of words that wouldn’t truly register with Thranduil, Collofin gently claimed his lover’s trembling lips. Ever so softly, he deepened the kiss, sliding closer until he eventually straddled his lover’s hips. Thranduil was growing erect beneath him and Collofin smiled knowingly, running his hands through his lover’s golden mane. “Oh, how I love you. I never stopped loving you. Not even when I was in the Halls of Waiting. You were always on my mind, meleth. And you always will be. My love for you is eternal.”

 

The falling of tears slowed down, until the flow stopped completely. Looking into his lover’s eyes, Thranduil raised his hands and placed them on either side of Collofin’s face. “How I love you, Remmen. I was desperate when I tried to enter the Halls of Waiting. If only Námo had let me we would have been reunited in death.”

 

“But it wasn’t your time, meleth. Legolas needed you.” Collofin leaned into the caress, slowly rubbing his face against the palm of Thranduil’s hand. “And now I need you. I always needed you.” When he looked into Thranduil’s emerald eyes again, his own held a very important and obvious question. “Do you need me too?”

 

“In *that* way?” whispered Thranduil in a breathless voice, “Always. But I never thought this day would ever come again.”

 

“Let me make sweet love to you, meleth, and give both of us what we need.” Collofin leaned in closer to shower Thranduil’s smiling face with butterfly kisses. “I love you so much…”

 

Thranduil briefly closed his eyes so his ears would hear all dimensions to his lover’s declaration. “Have me in whatever way you desire, Remmen.”

 

Collofin had already begun to undo the buttons to Thranduil’s shirt and slowly pushed the fabric aside, revealing his lover’s naked torso to him. Gently, his fingertips touched the scar, left behind by recent surgery. “You would have loved this little one to death, meleth.”

 

A sad, rueful smile appeared on Thranduil’s face as he finally accepted the loss. “I would have.” His heart missed a beat when Collofin’s lips gently brushed along the scar. His erection strained against the fabric of his leggings, and he threw back his head, burrowing his fingers in the fabric of the sheet.

 

Collofin saw the familiar surrender and placed a tender and passionate kiss onto his lover’s belly button. He would never betray the trust Thranduil placed in him. Quickly, he removed his own shirt and then lowered himself so their naked skin made contact.

 

Thranduil’s eyes opened and rapture shone from them. He ran his long fingers down his lover’s back, enjoying the sensation of soft skin beneath his fingertips. “More,” he panted, softly.

 

Eager to oblige his lover, Collofin undid the lacing of Thranduil’s leggings and freed the other Elf’s hard flesh. Running his thumb along the slit, he savored the soft, satin like feel of the warm, twitching flesh in his hands. A smile curled the corners of his mouth at the familiar sensation.

 

In the meantime, Thranduil had managed to slide Collofin’s leggings down the narrow hips, and he now curled his fingers around his beloved’s shaft, stroking gently. Collofin suddenly dived back to his lips, taking them in a possessive kiss and he arched his back in want. “Pl—“

 

But Collofin stopped him. “No, I don’t want you to beg. I never did.” Looking into his lover’s dilated pupils, he nodded once, and then moved down Thranduil’s body until he was in a comfortable position to take his lover’s length into his mouth. He placed one hand on Thranduil’s hip, trying to control his lover’s frantic thrusts, which would shortly follow and with his other hand he rubbed the velvet like scrotum, manipulating the testes until Thranduil was moaning needily.

 

Thranduil never took his eyes off of his lover and his heart missed a beat when those soft lips closed over his hard flesh. The gentle sucking sensation quickly deepened and he thrust involuntarily. When Collofin released him and softly blew against the tip of his enflamed flesh, he thought he would come that instant, but a sharp squeeze at the base of his erection stopped him from finding release. “Oh, you know me so well.”

 

Collofin smiled. “Yes, I know you and the way your body reacts.” Dividing beads of pre-ejaculate over the head of Thranduil’s shaft, he wickedly licked his lips. It only took him one moment to lose his leggings and to position himself for impalement. “I want you inside of me, meleth.” Thranduil’s hungry look told him everything he needed to know and he slowly sat down, taking in inch after inch until Thranduil was completely sheathed inside him. Wriggling slightly, he quickly became accustomed to the invasive feeling and craved motion. But his lover’s dazed expression told him he had surprised the blond after all. “Why? You know that I love taking myself.”

 

“It has been so long,” mumbled Thranduil, already in the throes of impending release. “Oh, I won’t last long, meleth.”

 

“You don’t have to,” whispered Collofin, once more claiming Thranduil’s lips. “We have the rest of our lives to make love. We need release and confirmation of our bond.”

 

“Our bond will slam firmly into place,” panted Thranduil, as Collofin clenched his inner muscle around his length. “Oh, I…” Remmen knew him so well. Knew what that particular move did to him. “Again…”

 

Collofin indulged his lover and a mist of memories flowed into his mind, causing him to relive all those times they had made love. Staring deeply into Thranduil’s eyes, he finally began to move, rocking atop of his lover, effectively bringing both of them to orgasm.

 

Thranduil quickly brought up his arms behind Collofin’s back to steady him. Pulling him close, he kissed his lover passionately, thrusting into the tight glove that welcomed him again after so many millennia of separation.

 

The moment of release caused their hearts to stop momentarily and when they began to beat again, they beat in unison, possessing one beat, having one rhythm. Thranduil spent himself inside his lover’s body, and involuntarily bit Collofin’s bottom lip, drawing a few droplets of blood. But Collofin never noticed the bite. What he did notice was the bond slamming into place as Thranduil had predicted it would. Their souls merged and caressed each other, slowly spinning closer until they were so tightly tangled that they became one. Neither of them could tell where one ended and the other began.

 

Exhausted, but blissfully happy, Collofin collapsed atop of Thranduil, relishing feeling his beloved’s arms around him – holding him possessively. “Oh my…”

 

Thranduil didn’t let him finish. “It is done. We are bound once more.”

 

Collofin grinned wickedly. “Oh, I missed making love to you!” Chuckling, he began to tickle Thranduil’s sides, knowing very well how ticklish the other Elf was.

 

“Stop… doing… that…Ah! Ha! Haha!” Thranduil was shaking with laughter and retaliated in a similar way. Within seconds they were both giggling and pleading for mercy. The days of old, which had been filled with mirth and merriment had finally returned.


	33. Chapter 33

Behind Emerald Eyes

Part 24

 

 

In the corridor, Legolas’ hand remained poised in mid-air. He had wanted to knock on the door to his father’s rooms, but now refrained from doing so at hearing the giggling and chuckles coming from within. His gaze sought out Haldir’s. They had come here to check on Thranduil, but now realized someone else was already doing a perfect job at cheering up the former King.

 

“Mercy!” sounded Thranduil’s voice, between chuckles and swallowed laughter.

 

“Only if… hahahaha, if you stop…. First!” Collofin’s warm, sparkling voice echoed through the room and easily reached the corridor.

 

Legolas smiled contently at Haldir. “It seems my father has finally found happiness.”

 

“And we will guard it well.” Haldir folded an arm around his husband, kissed Legolas, and they exited the corridor, not intruding on the privacy of the lovers of old.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A weak blush crept across Celeborn’s face and he quickly averted his eyes at seeing such an intimate scene. Námo had allowed him this moment in time to convince himself that Thranduil would be fine in the end. “He is really happy, having Remmen back at his side.”

 

Námo extinguished the vision before them and then nodded, thoughtfully. “Thranduil still has to go through the mourning process for losing his unborn child, but Collofin will remain at his side and help him accept the inevitable.”

 

Celeborn’s eyes darkened. “It was my child too.”

 

Námo’s compassionate eyes met Celeborn’s. “Your son’s fëa has already found a new host. He will be born in ten months and all will be well. I removed any unpleasant memories from his soul.”

 

“Was it my fault? I kept trying to convince Thranduil to—“

 

Námo covered the distance between them and placed a hand on the silver-haired Elf’s shoulder. After establishing eye contact he said, “Thranduil’s body is no longer able to carry a child to term. When Legolas was born, too much damage was done. The injuries were too extensive. Remmen knew this and therefore never asked Thranduil to give him another child.” Seeing Celeborn’s puzzled look, he answered the unspoken question. “Did Thranduil know? He suspected the pregnancy could go wrong, but he loved you enough to try.”

 

The Vala’s soft fingers caressed Celeborn’s face and then slid to the back of the Elf’s head, burying themselves in the long, silver hair. “My hands were bound. I knew what was about to happen, but couldn’t change anything.”

 

The loss of life reminded Celeborn just how precious life in general was – and love. Taking a step closer to Námo, he leaned into the touch and stared at the Vala, hoping Námo understood.

 

“You want me,” whispered the white-haired Vala, “Now?”

 

“Now.” Celeborn opted for a direct and slightly aggressive approach, knowing Námo could easily put him into his place if he overstepped any boundaries. Roughly claiming Námo’s lips, he buried the Vala in a tight hug and pushed him against the wall. A deep sigh, which hopefully indicated contentment, left Námo’s lips, and encouraged Celeborn to continue his sensual attack. One hand moved to undo the buttons of Námo’s robes, and the heavy, velvet fabric slid onto the floor, leaving Námo standing naked in front of him. Although he had seen the perfect body before, he almost drooled at the magnificent sight. “What is your desire? Tell me what you want.”

 

Finding it hard to concentrate on speech whilst Celeborn’s hand was slipping down to cup his testes, Námo stared wide-eyed at the bold Elf. No one would ever dare to approach him in this manner, or treat him thusly. Oh, he loved Celeborn even more for doing this to him. “Take me…”

 

A wicked grin surfaced on Celeborn’s face. “Did I hear correctly?”

 

“Possess me… Make me yours.” He hung helplessly in Celeborn’s arms with his back pressed against the wall, for which he now felt grateful, as it lent him all the support he needed. Oh, he knew that he could stop Celeborn with one word of power, with one mighty shove, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He craved giving up control after all these ages of responsibility. For just one moment he wanted to be taken care of.

 

Celeborn mischievously licked his lips. His instincts told him that this wouldn’t entail any slow or sweet love making; this would be hard and fast because Name needed this so badly. Who was he trying to fool? They both needed this badly!

 

Keeping the Vala pinned with one arm against the wall, he removed his own shirt, and then did away with his leggings as well. As they were both naked now, they eyed one another hungrily. Long, white hair danced against Námo’s hips, and the small number of blue and mithril strands seemed to deepen in color against the white wall. /A Vala, I am about to claim a Vala as my own./

 

Throwing caution to the wind, Celeborn brutally continued the attack on Námo’s already bruised lips. Whilst keeping Námo occupied in this way, he lifted the Vala and guided the long, strong legs around his waist. “Wrap your arms around me.” Panting softly, he stared into lust-possessed pupils of the deepest blue – near black. The Vala was beautiful in his need and Celeborn’s desire to please Námo almost made him act rashly; his only desire was to bury himself in the welcoming body. But no, he needed to do this properly. Námo being this eager was no excuse for him to become an inattentive lover.

 

Now that his greatest wish was about to be granted, Námo felt the first twinges of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. Although he was hard and needy, he had dreamt of this for so long that he had a hard time believing it was actually happening. “I have longed for this for so long. And now you are mine.” Wrapping arms and legs tightly around Celeborn’s frame, he allowed the other to take the lead. One of Celeborn’s hands slipped beneath his bottom, massaging the mounds of soft flesh and occasionally rubbing between the cheeks.

 

“Do we require oil?” asked Celeborn. As this was the Vala’s first time he wanted to please his lover in all possible ways and to proceed with caution.

 

“No, you won’t hurt me. You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.” Námo blushed weakly. “That is the way of the Valar.” He rested his head against Celeborn’s shoulder and licked the skin of his lover’s throat, still tasting the memory of salt that lingered there. “There is no need to bother with oil. I am more than ready for you.”

 

A predatory growl escaped from the back of Celeborn’s throat, and his sparkling eyes met Námo’s. “Now, then?”

 

“Yes, now.” Námo bit his bottom lip in anticipation. Although he knew there wouldn’t be any pain, he wasn’t completely sure what to expect. Once more burying his head against Celeborn’s surprisingly muscular shoulder, his lips sucked the soft, salty skin once more. He wanted to mark his lover, leave a passion mark on him for all to see.

 

Celeborn took himself in hand and positioned himself at the entrance to Námo’s body. A part of him found it hard to believe he was about to take the Vala, but another reveled in it. Thrusting upward, he began to inch inside. Slowly at first, but when no sounds of pain or discomfort left Námo’s lips, he plunged the last bit in.

 

“Oh…” Námo threw back his head and rested it against the wall so he could stare into Celeborn’s eyes. He felt full – surprisingly full -- and there was something else as well. A sense of surrender, love, and well-being he had never experienced before. Keeping a tight hold on his lover’s body, he swallowed hard, trying to rid himself of the lump of emotions in his throat. He tried to prepare himself for that first thrust that would follow shortly, but when it came he was still taken by surprise as little tremors of pleasure erupted from his lower body. “Oh, yessss,” he purred in delight.

 

Celeborn never took his eyes off of the beautiful creature sensually wrapped around him. He set a hard, but agonizingly slow rhythm and kept them on edge for long moments. Námo was tight, and involuntarily clenching his inner muscle around his length, almost making him come. Only discipline and self control kept Celeborn from finding release too quickly. Reaching between them, he curled his fingers around Námo’s weeping flesh and stroked his lover demandingly.

 

Námo released soft mews, moaned as the sensation overwhelmed him and released a sharp yelp when he finally found release. He tightened his hold on Celeborn, trembling from emotion.

 

Celeborn’s brow was knitted in concentration, but when the hot cream dripped down his fingers he knew the time had come to let go. The first contraction pushed him over the edge and he finally found release inside his lover’s welcoming body. Instinctively, he hugged Námo close to him and when orgasm coursed through him, he slowly went down onto his knees, taking the Vala down with him. With his last strength, he lowered Námo onto the floor so his lover now rested on his back, long legs still wrapped around him. He rested his body atop of the Vala’s and surrendered to the ecstasy washing over him. The sensation was so much more intense than it had ever been and it simply took his breath away. “Oh, melethen.”

 

Námo smiled brilliantly. “I have waited so long for you to call me that.”

 

Both slowly came down from their sensual high, but limbs remained entangled and their lips found each other once more. “I think I love you,” whispered Celeborn in a moment of truth. “When did that happen?”

 

“For me it happened many millennia ago, when you were born and I saw the potential you carried,” explained Námo, smiling warmly. “I promise you that you will be happy here.”

 

Celeborn silenced his lover by lazily kissing swollen lips. Oh, he was certain he would be happy here, because he already *was* happy here. With Námo at his side as his lover, what more was there to wish for?

 

Epilogue

 

“You are nervous, my beloved.” Lindir studied Elrond closely and caught the slight nervous twitch that always gave the half-Elf away when he felt nervous or upset.

 

Elrond sighed deeply. “I cannot possibly hide my feelings for you. I would never attempt to, and yes, you are right. I *am* nervous. How will Celebrían react upon our arrival?”

 

Erestor, who had overheard their conversation, moved closer to Elrond and rested a hand on the half-Elf’s shoulder. “Don’t you think she already knows? Do you really think Galadriel and Elladan didn’t tell her?” Although he had hoped for his words to comfort and reassure Elrond, his friend grew pale instead.

 

“Do you really think they told her? But then she already knows!” Elrond fought down his panic. “How will she react? What will she say?”

 

Glorfindel appeared behind Elrond and whispered into his friend’s ear, “She set you free to love again when she left, so why are you worried? Do you really think she would begrudge you Lindir’s love?”

 

“I don’t know,” mumbled Elrond, leaning heavily on Lindir, tightly entangling their fingers. “I don’t know what to expect.” He held his breath involuntarily, as his Elven sight made out his wife’s form on the white shores of Valinor. Galadriel was at her side, and so were Elladan and Orophin. Rumil and Mithrandir had also come to greet them and his nervousness increased at seeing the expectant look on Celebrían’s face. “I don’t know what to do… How to act.”

 

“Just be yourself and trust in her to understand,” advised Erestor, who eagerly gave in when Glorfindel claimed his hand.

 

Cirdan brought this last ship home safely and then waited for the first ones to disembark. Legolas took his husband’s hand in his right and then collected Gimli’s in his left. With Remmen walking behind them, they finally stepped onto the sacred shores. Rumil and Orophin greeted them enthusiastically and hugged their brother close.

 

Next to depart from the ship were Collofin and Thranduil. After greeting the Elves from Mirkwood that had traveled to the Undying Lands before them, they joined Legolas, Haldir, Remmen and Gimli. The six of them would live in two separate houses, which allowed Collofin and Thranduil some privacy, for which all involved were grateful.

 

Rumil and Orophin knew they would shortly meet with Haldir again, so they stepped aside and let the new arrivals head for their home to settle down comfortably.

 

Elrohir and Magolion stepped onto the shores next, and Elladan found it impossible to stand quietly at his mother’s side any longer. “Oh, brother, you are finally here! I have missed you!” Elladan grabbed hold of Elrohir and crushed him to his chest. “Never do this to me again! From now on, we shall always be together!”

 

Elrohir smiled and chuckled at his brother’s enthusiasm. “Always together, yes,” he promised. But then his gaze met Celebrían’s and he felt weak in the knees at being seeing his mother again. She looked radiant and long gone was the haunted look she had possessed before sailing for Valinor. Her long hair shone silver and her eyes were open and warm. When she opened her arms, he flung himself into them, hugging her tightly. “Nana… I love you.”

 

Celebrían smiled; delighted to be reunited with her youngest son. When Elladan had arrived she had refused to let him out of her sight for days and now that Elrohir was here too, she went through the same emotions. She needed him close, needed to feel his arms around her frame. “I love you too, pen-neth, and I am delighted to hold you in my arms again.” Having her sons close didn’t lessen the pain she felt at knowing Arwen’s fate, but they would support her and help her accept her daughter’s choice eventually.

 

“You look well,” said Elrohir, relieved that his mother had blossomed here in Valinor.

 

“That is because I am happy.” Finding that Elrond and Lindir were disembarking as well, she placed a kiss on Elrohir’s brow and then faced her husband and his lover. “Elrond… Lindir.”

 

Elrond was speechless. Celebrían looked radiant. She had looked like this when he had first fallen in love with her. The stains her ordeal with the Orcs had left upon her had vanished and she was whole once more. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted in the end, painfully aware of the fact that he continued to clutch Lindir’s hand for support.

 

“Then let me say it for you,” said Celebrían kindly, “My mother already told me that you found new love with Lindir and my heart rejoices for you.”

 

Elrond held his breath, staring at her in disbelief. “You accept this?”

 

“Of course I do. We set each other free, didn’t we?” A shy blush appeared on her features. “And I have to make an admission of my own.” Celebrían looked behind her and a tall Elf with long, dark-blond hair left the shadows of the ancient trees of Valinor. “I found love here on these shores. When I arrived, I was still hurting and Sildil helped me heal. We have to come to love one another.” She placed her hand in Sildil’s, who immediately caressed the soft skin.

 

“My Lord Elrond,” said Sildil in greeting, loyally standing at Celebrían’s side. Surely the half-Elf wouldn’t begrudge his former wife a new love?

 

Elrond unexpectedly burst out into chuckling. “It seems we both found a new love then!” And he had been so nervous during the journey here!

 

Celebrían smiled warmly and leaned in closer when Sildil folded an arm around her waist. “Yes, it seems the Valar were kind to us, allowing both of us a new chance at love and happiness.”

 

Elrond gave his former wife an adoring smile. “You speak kind and wise words.”

 

Celebrían nodded once and then looked at Lindir. “I am glad to know that you and Elrond are here. Valinor is a place of peace and bliss and I am certain we will all be very happy here.”

 

Lindir released a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Milady.”

 

“And now, come with us.” She turned around, gently pulling Sildil along with her. “Let me show you to your new home and tonight we will eat and drink, and speak of old times.”

 

Galadriel watched them go. Celebrían and Sildil leading the way, followed by Elrond and Lindir, who were obviously very relieved at having been so warmly welcomed. Elladan and Elrohir followed, arm in arm, talking and chuckling, whilst Orophin and Magolion reacquainted themselves. To her right she heard yelps of delight when Erestor and Mithrandir were reunited. Father and son hugged and immediately began to inform the other about recent events. Glorfindel patiently stood at Erestor’s side, and when the golden-haired Elf felt her gaze on him, he gave her a doting smile.

 

Galadriel nodded once and followed when the three of them began to walk. She had been reunited with friends and loved ones, and Valinor would be their home for all eternity. /Celeborn, my love, I hope you are content as well./ Not expecting an answer she froze in her tracks, hearing his voice in her mind.

 

/More than just content. I have had my share of good fortune as well, my dearest Galadriel./

 

Sighing blissfully, she continued down the path to join the others again.

 

Celeborn watched her walk away, in that floating manner of hers. A part of him would always love and adore her, and he was thankful that Námo had brought them here to witness this reunion. Hidden away from their view, Námo and he had watched them.

 

“Your scheming worked,” said Celeborn, looking into his lover’s soft blue eyes.

 

“I am Námo,” he said, “Doomsman of the Valar, and I know all that is going to happen, except what lies in the will of Eru Iluvatar. I already knew the outcome when I set everything into motion, my beloved Celeborn.”

 

Celeborn chuckled, swept aside the long, white hair, and pressed a kiss onto the sensitive skin of his lover’s neck. “I will never underestimate you again. Everyone is happy.”

 

Námo cheekily eyed Celeborn. “You know… there is something that would make me even happier.”

 

Celeborn raised an eyebrow, pretending he didn’t know what was coming. “And what might that be?”

 

“Let me ravish you…” said Námo, purring like a predatory cat.

 

Celeborn licked and nibbled Námo’s throat, leaving tiny marks on the perfect skin. “That can be arranged.”

 

On waves of chuckling and purrs, the two forms faded away, leaving behind a peaceful shore.

 

THE END


End file.
